This Side of Me
by cherrycola69
Summary: Saving his mortal enemy in a moment of insanity Draco is suddenly labelled a hero. Floundering in a new life and hiding from Death Eaters with Harry he finds that his allegiance isn’t the only thing that’s changed DH COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All the characters are J K Rowling's Rating: R  
  
I rubbed a smear of blood from my cheek, grimacing distastefully.  
  
If there was one thing I hated about raids it was that every blasted wizard in the building seemed determined to cover me in their impure blood.  
  
'Fourth or seventh?' Voldemort asked coldly, referring to which division we'd just obliterated.  
  
I looked at the body in front of me and leaned down yanking a small chain from around his neck.  
  
'Fourth unit.' I said simply, regarding the man's details and then letting his tag drop to the floor.  
  
Dean Thomas.  
  
I'd known him once.  
  
He wasn't even a Mudblood.  
  
But if he'd been foolish enough to cross me then he deserved everything he got.  
  
'Well done my Lord.' I addressed formally, my eyes drifting over the ruined room in front of me. 'This will be a great blow to Dumbledore and his side.'  
  
Voldemort smiled chillingly, although I was unsure it could be counted as a smile.  
  
This was the third enemy base we'd destroyed this week.  
  
Reports from our spies told us that Dumbledore himself was beginning to despair.  
  
The wizarding world was fast descending into chaos.  
  
The next step in out plan would plunge it straight into obscure darkness.  
  
'Look at them.' He said scornfully. 'So naïve- they truly believed he could protect them. Look where their trust and belief got them Draco and rejoice that we have none. Rejoice that we will this battle.'  
  
'I rejoice already my lord.' I murmured respectfully, my eyes picking out familiar faces staring the blank gaze of death.  
  
'Pity Potter wasn't here to enjoy it with us.' A sardonic tone crept into his voice. 'He is what stands between us and our victory.'  
  
'He will be found soon enough.' I promised. 'I will see to it.'  
  
He nodded. 'You shall.'  
  
There was a threat hanging behind the words.  
  
I was used to it though.  
  
After three years of being Voldemort's right hand man I was threatened quite a bit by everybody.  
  
I didn't worry though - nobody ever carried out the threats because I never gave anybody the chance to.  
  
'Everybody here?' I raised my voice so the entire room could hear it.  
  
'Sunley's missing sir.' Someone replied.  
  
'Dead.' I answered immediately, my tone containing nothing but boredom.  
  
He was a fool anyway.  
  
'Anybody else?'  
  
There was silence.  
  
'Good- apparate back to the base.' I ordered in a tone that left no room for questions. 'Zabini, Ball, Newton and Rutherton - you're all on sentry tonight. Everybody else get some sleep. There's a meeting at eight. I expect you all to be there - no excuses.'  
  
That basically meant that if they weren't dead, and they missed the meeting, they would be.  
  
'Go. Now.'  
  
Immediately the figures of the Death Eaters before me began to fade.  
  
Voldemort nodded at me before apparating himself.  
  
I sighed, flexing my arm which I'd been careless enough to injure.  
  
When I had enough time and energy I'd heal myself but until then I would have to put up with the pain.  
  
It would teach me to be more careful next time.  
  
The ruins around me began to smoke and I looked upwards. What had once been a roof now was an opening to the night sky.  
  
I loved the night time- it was the only time I ever felt truly alive.  
  
Ironic really considering it was the time I associated with death - ironic indeed that I only felt alive sending others to their death.  
  
***  
  
I stifled a yawn, squinting to read the tiny writing on the latest reports from the other bases.  
  
They were so boring.  
  
I felt the urge to fire the current commanders and replace them with someone who could write something that kept me awake.  
  
Not that the defence measures of Death Eater bases weren't of the utmost interest to me but. . .  
  
Why couldn't Voldemort do some of the work?  
  
They were his bloody bases not mine.  
  
He was the one getting all the glory and the fame and I was the one doing all the hard work.  
  
Except, to be fair, I was getting a considerable amount of fame.  
  
The price on my head had escalated rapidly over the last year and it now wasn't actually that much less than Voldemort's.  
  
Only his was "dead or alive".  
  
Mine was "alive".  
  
I wasn't sure if that was good or not.  
  
If the rumours about the auror's methods were true then maybe I'd rather be dead.  
  
There was a faint flicker as something moved past the candles in the corridor.  
  
I tensed and closed my eyes, concentrating on where the person was.  
  
There was an exclamation as the person realised I had apparated right in front of them.  
  
'Why are you not in bed?' I asked coldly.  
  
The Death Eater swallowed. 'Couldn't sleep.'  
  
About to launch into a lecture and then possibly a curse I paused, realising I was too tired to be bothered with a minion.  
  
'Fine. Make yourself useful and go join the others on watch.'  
  
He frowned. Obviously he didn't want to actually do some work.  
  
Before he could blink my wand was at his throat.  
  
'Is there a problem?' I hissed.  
  
'No sir.' He choked.  
  
'Good.' I withdrew, leaving him quaking in terror. 'And it better stay that way. If there is so much as a leaf that moves out there I want to know about it.'  
  
He nodded mutely.  
  
'Immediately.' I stressed.  
  
The nodding speeded up.  
  
'What are you waiting for?' I asked.  
  
He spun around and ran towards the exit.  
  
I sighed.  
  
I needed to calm down a bit.  
  
I was tired and stressed but so what? Pretty soon every Death Eater was going to think I was as crazy as Dumbledore if I carried on like this.  
  
I checked the time.  
  
4 am.  
  
If I went to bed now I could perhaps get two hours sleep before I had to be up again.  
  
Normally I would have scoffed at the idea and carried on working.  
  
But I'd been working for three days non-stop and I couldn't see straight.  
  
I would be no use if we were attacked.  
  
My mind made up I apparated to my bedroom, too tired to bother walking.  
  
With a sigh I lay down on the four poster bed, fully clothed.  
  
I buried my face in the silky soft sheets and finally let my eyes drift shut.  
  
Sleep was easy to come and just as easy to depart.  
  
There was a creak outside my room.  
  
My wand in my hand, I was standing before the door handle turned.  
  
Zabini.  
  
I relaxed slightly.  
  
'What?' I snapped.  
  
'There is an intruder.'  
  
'Alone?'  
  
He nodded.  
  
'Capture them. I want them alive. Do not engage in battle- simply catch them unaware. And QUICKLY.' I snapped.  
  
He disapparated instantly.  
  
So much for sleeping.  
  
I looked wistfully one last time at my bed before resigning myself to another 24hours of wakefulness.  
  
Hoping to wake myself up I chose to walk to our largest containing room.  
  
Whoever the intruder was he was going to suffer twice as much as usual for interrupting my sleep.  
  
I glanced at a chair wishing I could sit down.  
  
But to need to sit was a weakness, one I could not afford now I was faced with the prospect of a prisoner.  
  
The air blurred hazily as a team of four apparated in the room.  
  
They really had to work on instant apparation.  
  
'You have them?' I asked.  
  
Zabini nodded. 'Yes sir.'  
  
A body was thrown on the floor by my feet, landing face up and revealing a face I'd dreamed of seeing.  
  
Potter.  
  
This was too good to be true.  
  
'His wand?' I asked.  
  
Zabini presented it to me triumphantly.  
  
I nodded to him. 'You have done well. Go and inform our Lord. I shall keep watch on the prisoner. I want guards stationed outside the doors.'  
  
Orders dealt with, I turned and silently regarded Potter.  
  
All these years of trying to find him and he turned up to our base, alone and unarmed apart from his wand.  
  
What on earth was he thinking walking into a Death Eater base?  
  
It was an even more stupid foolhardy move than I would have expected from him.  
  
There was a small groan from the floor and I watched as the body moved slightly. The famous green eyes fluttered open and I watched as his pupils dilated to see in the dim atmosphere.  
  
'Where am I?' He whispered in confusion.  
  
'Come on Potter you can do better than that.'  
  
He jumped, obviously not expecting an answer.  
  
'Who are you?' He snapped, looking around the room anxiously.  
  
I stepped out of the shadows and his eyes widened slightly as he saw me.  
  
'Potter.' I greeted in a lazy drawl.  
  
'Malfoy.' His glare could have killed.  
  
'How nice of you to join us.' I smirked at him.  
  
'Well thanks for the invite.'  
  
'I wasn't aware we'd issued one.' My eyes showed sarcastic concern. 'But I'm pleased by your presence nonetheless.'  
  
'At least one of us is pleased.' His eyes regarded me with a coolness that seemed out of place on him.  
  
I made a disappointed noise. 'Not pleased to see me then Potter?'  
  
Stony silence answered me.  
  
'Shame.' I picked some dirt out from under my fingernail.  
  
His mouth opened to retort.  
  
The doors flew open and Voldemort strode in, looking ever inch the villain.  
  
'Harry Potter.' Voldemort said gleefully, rubbing his hands together.  
  
He looked uncannily like Crabbe and Goyle did when approaching a chocolate cake.  
  
I kicked myself inwardly- I had to stop making comparisons like that- it was making me lose all respect for him.  
  
'Lord Voldemort.' Potter's scornful tone ruined the formal addressal.  
  
'I trust Mr Malfoy has greeted you appropriately.' He looked at me with a small smirk.  
  
Damn I knew I'd forgotten something- pain!  
  
I was supposed to have been torturing him!  
  
'But the night has only just begun.' Voldemort said sinisterly.  
  
'Actually it's morning.' Potter corrected him.  
  
'I'm sorry?' Voldemort asked icily.  
  
'You are? Oh well- forgive and forget's always been one of my favourite-'  
  
There was a cracking sound and Potter's head snapped to the side.  
  
Interesting spell. I had to learn that one.  
  
Voldemort smirked.  
  
Blood tricked out of Potter's mouth as he straightened up.  
  
'Damn that impure blood sure does taste bad.' He spat it on the floor. 'I see where you're coming from now.'  
  
Wow.  
  
Since when had Potter developed a sense of humour? Let alone a skill at witty repartee.  
  
Why couldn't he have had that at Hogwarts? It would have made my life a whole lot more fun  
  
'By the time the sun sets you won't have any left.' Voldemort hissed. 'You'll be begging me to kill you. You'll regret ever being born and rue the dare you dared to cross me!'  
  
'Ooh scary- are you going to bore me to death?'  
  
I kicked myself as I almost laughed.  
  
'You'll eat your words before I'm through Potter.' Voldemort's eyes flashed with seething anger.  
  
'Draco.' He turned to me. 'Do you want to have a little fun with your prisoner.'  
  
Fun?  
  
I had fun?  
  
Oh.  
  
Torture and maiming.  
  
When wasn't I up for that?  
  
I frowned.  
  
So why was I hesitating?  
  
The sudden realisation hit me.  
  
I didn't want to have any sort of "fun" with Potter.  
  
But there was no way in hell I was going to tell Lord Voldemort that.  
  
And come to think of it why the hell didn't I want to?  
  
I'd hated Potter since day one.  
  
'Of course my Lord.' I said quickly, realising I'd taken a little too long to answer.  
  
He gestured to me with his eyebrows that I should go ahead.  
  
I pulled my wand out my pocket, feeling it slip slightly in my sweating palms.  
  
~What the hell is wrong with you?~ I mentally berated myself. ~This is Potter. The bane of your existence. The one person you've been doing this to get to. ~  
  
I blinked in shock.  
  
The one person I'd been doing this to get to?  
  
What was going on?  
  
I hadn't thought about Potter once in the last five years since leaving Hogwarts.  
  
Well maybe once or twice but it was only ever in a violent bloodthirsty way - totally natural.  
  
So why was that distinct feeling of reluctance running through me.  
  
Our eyes met and I felt a jolt run through me at the sight of the green eyes, filled with defiance, and a great deal of pain.  
  
'Something the matter Draco?' Voldemort's voice had chilled somewhat and I jumped at the sound of it.  
  
'No my Lord.' I lied nervously, turning back to Potter.  
  
~Just say it Draco. ~ I ordered myself. ~It's just one little word. ~  
  
Even Potter was looking at me now, his expression curious.  
  
Curious as to why he wasn't currently screaming in agony.  
  
Due to the look on Voldemort's face I had about another second to make a decision.  
  
It was either me or Potter.  
  
When it was put like that.  
  
'Crucio.'  
  
A jet of light streamed out of my wand, hitting Potter squarely in the chest.  
  
A smile spread across Voldemort's face as he listened to the screams.  
  
It was obviously music to his ears.  
  
And to mine?  
  
For the first time in a long while. . . it was just screaming.  
  
Horrific screams of agony that chilled you to the bone.  
  
The sort of screams that made you realise you still had a soul because currently it was being torn apart.  
  
The sort of screams I didn't want to listen to.  
  
And then they were over and the only sound was Potter's pain filled gasps.  
  
I closed my eyes slightly.  
  
Why did I care so much?  
  
This lack of sleep must have been getting to me more than I'd realised.  
  
'Much as I'd love to see you carry on eating your words Potter,' Voldemort snarled, 'I'm afraid the starter's over and it's time for the main course. We wouldn't want any rescue attempts before the meal's over would we?'  
  
Actually you know what?  
  
I think I'd quite like to cast 'crucio' again.  
  
I'd been so wrapped up in the spell itself I'd forgotten what would happen when it ended.  
  
'I have been waiting for this moment for a long time Potter.' Though low, Voldemort's voice carried to every shadow filled corner in the room.  
  
I was beginning to feel sick.  
  
I just couldn't imagine it.  
  
Potter- dead.  
  
I'd always known that those two words would someday never be apart but now that I was facing the opportunity.  
  
He just wasn't the type to die.  
  
I'd never met anyone more full of life.  
  
And the idea of a world without him. . .  
  
My hand grabbed the chair, half to support myself, half for me to squeeze so hard it splintered.  
  
'Any last words Potter?'  
  
If I hadn't been waging such a difficult internal battle then I would have rolled my eyes at the cliché.  
  
The green eyes turned towards me and I tensed as they met my own, unable to breathe.  
  
Something flowed between the two of us- more expressive than any last words he could say.  
  
'No.' He said simply.  
  
He broke the connection.  
  
I swallowed.  
  
My heart began to beat faster and a vague feeling of panic began to spread through me.  
  
He couldn't die.  
  
I couldn't see him die.  
  
Oh God.  
  
What was I going to do?  
  
I had to do something!  
  
But if I so much as moved then Voldemort would know.  
  
And I'd be dead.  
  
Just like Potter.  
  
My breath was coming out in erratic bursts and the blood was rushing to my head. Voldemort raised his wand.  
  
'Avada Kedavra!'  
  
I watched in stunned silence as the light raced across the room.  
  
Light issued from my wand.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
As the light hit Voldemort's body I felt my heart stop beating.  
  
What the hell had I just done?  
  
I watched in sick fascination as Voldemort's body fell to the ground.  
  
But he wasn't dead yet.  
  
Somehow he was fighting back.  
  
I poured more energy and magic into the spell.  
  
It was too late to go back now.  
  
My senses were reeling and for a second I felt Voldemort's pain as if it was my own.  
  
And then with a last sudden flash the light went out.  
  
I staggered slightly.  
  
My heartbeat filled my head.  
  
So this was how it felt to die.  
  
I fell to my knees, trying to remember how to breathe.  
  
'Malfoy?'  
  
I saw the mouth shape the words rather than hear it.  
  
Green eyes stared down at me and without realising what I was doing I reached out a hand and gently touched his cheek, feeling the moisture on it.  
  
My last thought before darkness claimed me was that Potter looked like an angel when he cried. 


	2. Chapter 2

I blinked my eyes open slowly.  
  
I was lying on a soft bed in what appeared to be a hospital bed.  
  
What the hell???  
  
I frowned in confusion and tried to sit up.  
  
Dizziness and pain swept over me and I lay back down again swiftly.  
  
Where was I?  
  
I groaned slightly. And why was I so tired?  
  
I felt like I'd fallen off a two hundred foot high broomstick.  
  
And I might have done for all I remembered.  
  
But this place- this place played on the strings of my memories.  
  
I'd been here before.  
  
I concentrated on the swimming memories in my mind, focusing on the one of this room, my eyes drifting shut.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
My eyes flew open as I remembered.  
  
I was at Hogwarts.  
  
The main base of the enemy.  
  
I gaped in astonishment.  
  
To think of all the fun I could have here.  
  
But- why was I here?  
  
My memories of recent events were a bit hazy and I concentrated hard, trying to remember.  
  
A collapsed building littered with bodies and covered with blood.  
  
An intruder.  
  
A scream that had affected me more than it should have done.  
  
And a pair of green eyes widened in shock as a green light flashed through the room.  
  
But whose eyes?  
  
I froze.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
Well that was the understatement of the century.  
  
I'd killed Voldemort. The Dark Lord himself.  
  
I was so dead.  
  
The door opened and I jerked, wincing as I realised how much it hurt to jerk.  
  
The familiar, annoyingly cheerful face of Dumbledore appeared.  
  
I relaxed slightly.  
  
Dumbledore may be a dangerous enemy to have but he was nothing if not honourable.  
  
And killing one of his ex-students in a hospital bed was not honourable.  
  
'Mr Malfoy.' He smiled at me. 'Are you feeling alright?'  
  
Was *he* feeling alright?  
  
'Fine.' I said cautiously.  
  
'Good. So you won't mind a chat with a friend of mine?'  
  
Before giving me a chance to say the less polite version of "no" the door opened and a face I recognised by reputation appeared.  
  
I was on my feet in an instant, searching frantically for my wand.  
  
I knew there had to be a catch somewhere.  
  
'Draco please calm down.' Dumbledore said kindly. 'There is no cause to be alarmed.'  
  
'There's no cause to be alarmed?? You brought the bloody head auror here and you're telling me there's no need to be alarmed????' I hissed.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Oh.' That floored me.  
  
'Mr McRain is not here to arrest you.'  
  
'Of course not.' McRain smiled slightly at me. 'I must admit Mr Malfoy- I truly had no idea. Perhaps you should think about going into acting after this whole mess is sorted out.'  
  
'Pardon?' I asked, feeling more than a little confused.  
  
I was in the same room as Quintus McRain who had been tracking me down for three years and as of yet he had not made any move to capture or kill me.  
  
And he was actually being nice.  
  
'Well it must take great skills to convince Voldemort that you're on his side when you're not. And becoming his second in command! I never imagined that any of our side could infiltrate his ranks that high up!'  
  
The penny dropped.  
  
'I'm not a spy.' I said in faint alarm.  
  
'Draco there is no need to lie in this room.' Dumbledore assured me. 'There are no traitors here.'  
  
'I know there aren't; myself included.'  
  
'Mr Malfoy. Professor Dumbledore has shown me the letters between the two of you, do not fear for your safety.'  
  
'What the hell is wrong with you all?' I exploded. 'I am not a spy. I'm a death eater! I'm Voldemort's second in command and I'd kill you all in a heartbeat.'  
  
Dumbledore exchanged glances with McRain. 'You must excuse him Quintus, he is in shock.'  
  
'I'm not in bloody shock!' I yelled. 'I'm a Death Eater. Look I've got the bloody mark on my arm.' I shoved my sleeve up angrily. 'I've killed hundreds of people, I'm a murderer, a killer why the hell aren't you arresting me???'  
  
'Ah.' McRain said suddenly. 'I see.'  
  
Finally.  
  
'You should not feel guilt about what you had to do Draco. These things have to be done when you are a spy. It is all for the greater good.'  
  
I buried my head in my hands.  
  
'In what ways am I not making myself clear?' I said desperately. 'I'm a Death Eater. A real one, every bit as real as you being an Auror or Potter being the saviour of the wizarding world. I like being a Death Eater. I have more power than any of you idiots can or ever will imagine. I killed dozens and dozens of aurors. I-' their faces remained unconvinced. 'I cast the crucio on Potter. Ask him!'  
  
Thank God, that should convince them.  
  
No spy would dare touch Hogwarts' Golden Boy with a 10ft broomstick.  
  
'Harry understands that you had to, to protect your cover.' Dumbledore told me. 'He told me to tell you that he forgives you totally and you shouldn't worry about it.'  
  
I began to hyperventilate.  
  
Strangely the warnings I'd been given about being captured did not include being protected from capture and imprisonment by Dumbledore himself.  
  
'I give up.' I muttered wearily. 'I'm too tired to do this.'  
  
'Indeed Mr Malfoy- right now I think the best thing you can do is to rest. Killing Voldemort used up a lot of your energy and inherent magic. It needs time to recuperate.'  
  
They left the room, leaving me alone in the infirmary.  
  
Oh this was horrible.  
  
*I* Draco Lucius Malfoy, the highest ranking Death Eater in the world, was going to go down in history, not as the wizard who took over the world, but the one who killed Voldemort.  
  
I'd saved the world.  
  
I shuddered.  
  
Why not just stick a scar on my head and call me Harry Potter.  
  
Although hopefully without all the bad clothes.  
  
Let's face it - the guy has no fashion sense whatsoever.  
  
Although at least now he had clothes that fit.  
  
The door opened and I sprang to my feet, searching in my pockets for a wand that was no longer there.  
  
Although as soon as I saw the person I really wished I had.  
  
'You!' I exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in anger.  
  
Harry Potter looked at me in mild confusion.  
  
'Where the hell do you get off telling everybody I'm a good guy??' I exploded. 'Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have everybody think that I'm some kind of hero???'  
  
His lips twitched.  
  
I glared at him heatedly and he instantly wiped any trace of a smile off his face.  
  
'What possessed you to tell them that I was a spy?' I yelled. 'I'm going to be in enough trouble already without you adding to it!'  
  
'They'd have thrown you in Azkhaban otherwise.'  
  
'Not if you'd just left me there - but no. You had to be the hero and drag me all the way to bloody Hogwarts and lie to make me seem like a good guy.'  
  
'They'd have killed you.' He said simply.  
  
'Well that would have been my problem!' I snapped. 'How is it any of your business whether I live or die? I'm your enemy! You're supposed to kill me not protect me!'  
  
He took a step towards me.  
  
I stepped back instantly. 'Stay away from me.'  
  
Wandless and in the enemy base I was not feeling at my best.  
  
'I'm not going to hurt you.' He said soothingly.  
  
'As if you could!' I snarled.  
  
He ignored that. 'I just want to talk.'  
  
'Well I don't. I want to get the fuck out of here.'  
  
'Ok.'  
  
I looked at him suspiciously. 'What's the catch?'  
  
There was always a catch.  
  
'There's a mob of wizard's outside who want to kill you.'  
  
See?  
  
'What? Why?'  
  
'In case you haven't noticed you have killed quite a lot of people over the years and now everybody knows you're here, they all want payback.'  
  
'I killed Voldemort.' I crossed my arms. 'I saved the world.'  
  
He raised an eyebrow. 'You've changed your tune.'  
  
'Yeah? So? If you're going to ruin my reputation I might as well get some hero worship out of it. I killed the Dark Lord - I saved all their fucking lives- they can't touch me.'  
  
Or is Dumbledore the only person on the other side with any sense of honour?  
  
'Even if that was true- which I'm not really sure it is then they're the least of your problems.'  
  
'How'd you figure that one out?' I folded my arms.  
  
'Well the Death Eaters aren't going to welcome you back with open arms are they. Like you said: you killed the Dark Lord.'  
  
Oh fuck.  
  
I'd really done it this time.  
  
Everyone on both sides wanted to kill me.  
  
'Screw you all.' I stated. 'I don't know what you want but you're not getting it from me.'  
  
'We don't want anything.' Potter said gently in that infuriatingly sincere tone he'd always used.  
  
I laughed derisively. 'People always want something Potter. That's a lesson I'm never going to forget.'  
  
Because Voldemort has a charming way of teaching.  
  
'Look I'm not going to make you tell us anything. If you feel like helping your cause further and telling us where all the Death Eater bases are then that's your decision.'  
  
I snorted and folded my arms. 'And what makes you think I'll help you?'  
  
'Nothing.'  
  
'So why are you all doing this?'  
  
'You saved my life.' Potter stated.  
  
'Yeah and trust me I'm beginning to regret it.'  
  
A small smile flickered on his face. 'You haven't changed a bit.'  
  
'Yes I have.' I said firmly, immediately. 'I've changed more than you know. If you thought I was bad before Potter, you have a lot to learn about the meaning of the word.'  
  
'I know.'  
  
'Then why?' I exclaimed, gesturing around me. 'Why aren't I in a cell or dead at this very moment in time?'  
  
'Why aren't I?' He asked seriously.  
  
Well I guess our reasons were the same then- "I don't know."  
  
'Because you're an infuriating twat who just won't die?' I suggested bitterly.  
  
'The same could be said for you.' He informed me with a smile.  
  
I wondered if I would get in trouble if I hit him.  
  
'Don't you have anyone else to go annoy?' I asked finally.  
  
The fact that he actually took it as a serious question drove me mad.  
  
'No not really.'  
  
My hands curled up into fists.  
  
'But you must be tired so I guess I'll go find something else to do.'  
  
'Yeah you do that.' I said bitterly.  
  
He walked towards the door, turning and smiling slightly as he stepped outside.  
  
'I'll see you later.'  
  
'Not if I'm lucky.'  
  
He laughed slightly. 'And Draco? I'm glad you're here.'  
  
The door swung shut behind him, leaving me confused and fuming.  
  
I certainly had a lot to think about.  
  
***  
  
'Ah Mr Malfoy. I see you got my message.' Dumbledore beamed at me.  
  
The letter was still in my hand and I nodded in affirmation. 'What did you want to speak to me about?'  
  
'Please have a seat.' Dumbledore nodded towards the chairs in front of his desk.  
  
Gingerly I perched on one.  
  
'I'm afraid we have a problem Mr. Malfoy.'  
  
I sighed. When wasn't there a problem in my life?  
  
'Oh?'  
  
'The boundaries of Hogwarts are surrounded by protestors. Should you set foot outside of this building I cannot be held responsible for the crowd's actions. The government is still in the process of informing everyone of your innocence.'  
  
Was he going somewhere with this.  
  
'So?' I prompted.  
  
'You can't stay at Hogwarts.' Dumbledore told me.  
  
'So I'm booked in for an all inclusive lifetime in Azkabhan?' I asked with raised eyebrows.  
  
At the moment stuck with an aging madman and the exasperating Boy-Who-Lived I almost wished that the answer was yes.  
  
Almost.  
  
'We're sending you to a safe house.'  
  
I looked at him in blank horror. 'A safe house? You mean those pokey little houses you send good wizards to when they have a 99.9% change of being assassinated before the week is out.'  
  
'No Mr Malfoy I mean a perfectly decent house in which you can stay until the wizarding world has calmed down after the revelation that you're not a Death Eater.'  
  
'Which is after all a load of total bollocks.' I muttered beneath my breath.  
  
'Pardon?'  
  
'Never mind. So when can I get out of here?' I picked some dirt from under my nails.  
  
'Immediately if you so wish. But there are a few precautions we will be taking, to ensure your safety and that of the others around you.'  
  
'Precautions?' I repeated suspiciously.  
  
'Yes. We will be keeping custody of your wand until you have proved that you will not use it for evil.'  
  
If he thought I needed a wand to cause damage he was seriously mistaken.  
  
'Furthermore you will not be allowed to contact any member of the wizarding world until we give you permission. Similarly you will be unable to leave your safe house until the chaos has settled down.'  
  
This was sounding worse and worse every second.  
  
But anything was better than spending any more time with Harry "I'm so perfect" Potter.  
  
I nodded, calmly. 'I understand.'  
  
Dumbledore looked at me seriously. 'You are being given a second chance Mr Malfoy- but should you return to your previous way of life I'm afraid I shall have no choice but to allow McRain to have his way.'  
  
Anger swelled inside me and I fought to keep it down.  
  
There was nothing I could do- yet.  
  
But a day would come when all these damn do-gooders would regret the day they had tried to help me.  
  
'But in the meantime,' Dumbledore continued, 'if you would like to use the floo network to go to your new home.'  
  
I took a handful of powder from the proffered pot.  
  
He was a little trusting. I could go anywhere I wanted.  
  
'What's the name?' I asked.  
  
'There is no need for a name. The fireplace will only take you to your safe house.'  
  
Ok maybe he wasn't so trusting.  
  
Can't say I blamed him.  
  
Although that didn't stop me from glaring at him.  
  
I stepped inside the fireplace and viciously threw the powder on the floor.  
  
I instantly landed sprawled on the floor.  
  
'Crap.' I rubbed my elbow with a wince.  
  
I'd hit it on a table as I landed.  
  
What kind of a bloody stupid place to put a table was that?  
  
Then again it was probably there to delay people who weren't supposed to be flooing in.  
  
Only my quick reflexes had kept it from being my head that hit it.  
  
I straightened up, looking around the shadowy room.  
  
I squinted, trying to see.  
  
How the hell was I supposed to do anything when I didn't have my wand to light my way.  
  
A simple "lumos" would help so much at this point.  
  
I put my hand on the wall and followed it round, knowing I'd eventually arrive at the door.  
  
My hand ran over a button and I hesitated, my curiosity demanding me to find out what it was before proceeding.  
  
Hesitantly I pressed it and almost jumped out of my skin when light suddenly flooded the room.  
  
Ok.  
  
Note to self - little buttons make it light.  
  
What else was there in this house I had no idea how to work?  
  
I prowled around the house, pressing a little button by every door and sticking my head in every room.  
  
Satisfied that Dumbledore hadn't sent me to a complete shithouse I returned to the living room.  
  
The house seemed quite big for a safe house - three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a study.  
  
And it was pretty decently decorated although there was a bit much warmth and cheeriness for my taste.  
  
Used to cold stone and leather, and green and black being the predominant colours of decoration, this seemed like a different world.  
  
Which, I reflected, it was.  
  
It was a far cry from torture maiming and murder.  
  
I inwardly tensed as I felt someone's eyes trained on my back.  
  
Then a sigh slipped from me.  
  
I didn't have to turn around to tell who it was.  
  
I gave no sign of noticing his arrival and he remained quiet.  
  
'Why did you do that?' I asked finally.  
  
'Do what?'  
  
I turned, meeting Potter's eyes.  
  
'Put your neck out on the line for me. If those aurors found out you were lying you'd be in so much shit- Boy Who Lived or not.'  
  
He shrugged slightly. 'Just returning the favour.'  
  
'Potter I didn't save you out of the kindness of my heart.'  
  
'Then why did you?'  
  
I floundered. 'Because- because- Just because ok? Why the hell are you here anyway? No-one's supposed to know where I am.'  
  
He grinned. 'Well I do live here.'  
  
My heart stopped. 'You what?'  
  
'This is my house.' He said it so casually that I knew it was anything other than casual.  
  
Shock flooded through me.  
  
Please let this be some horrible nightmare.  
  
I couldn't live with Potter.  
  
'Your house?' I echoed weakly.  
  
He nodded.  
  
I closed my eyes momentarily.  
  
'Why?' I seriously considered beating my head against the wall. 'Why here?'  
  
He shrugged.  
  
'Someone had to keep an eye on you.'  
  
I snorted. 'I get it. Someone had to keep an eye on me and who better than Harry Potter, the biggest pain in my ass and trained puppy of the forces of light.'  
  
'Something like that.'  
  
'Are you crazy?' I exclaimed.  
  
'No.'  
  
'Is Dumbledore?'  
  
Well obviously that was a "yes".  
  
He looked thoughtful. 'I don't think so.'  
  
'I could kill you in a heartbeat.' It wasn't a threat; it was a statement.  
  
'True.'  
  
'So why are you here?'  
  
He was leaning against the table, looking perfectly relaxed.  
  
'I can take care of myself.'  
  
I couldn't stand him being this calm.  
  
'So that's why you were captured by Death Eaters, taken to Voldemort's headquarters, tortured and almost killed.'  
  
He blinked. '*Almost*.' He stressed.  
  
'You would have been if I hadn't.' I trailed off.  
  
Maybe I shouldn't have brought that up.  
  
'Exactly.' A triumphant look entered his eyes. 'If you were going to kill me then you would have done it already.'  
  
'I wouldn't be too sure.' My eyes narrowed. 'If you keep talking you might discover you're wrong.'  
  
'Draco.'  
  
'Don't call me that.' I snapped. 'I'm not your friend and you're definitely not mine so will you stop fucking calling me that.'  
  
'What do you want me to call you?'  
  
The question was so calm and sincere that it took me aback.  
  
'What?' I asked in confusion.  
  
'If you don't want me to call you Draco then what do you want me to call you?' He said patiently.  
  
I gaped at him.  
  
'Is something wrong?' He asked concernedly.  
  
'Why are you being so nice to me?'  
  
He shrugged. 'Shouldn't I be?'  
  
'No!'  
  
'So shall I be horrible to you instead?'  
  
'No!' I changed my mind, feeling very uncomfortable. 'Yes!' But that didn't make any sense. 'I mean.' I sighed. 'Are you always this difficult?'  
  
'Me? I'm not the one being difficult.'  
  
'You're *making* everything difficult!'  
  
'Am I?' He looked surprised. 'I think you're just taking everything too seriously.'  
  
My mouth dropped open. '*I'm* taking everything too *seriously*?'  
  
'Yeah you should really try lightening up.'  
  
I couldn't find the words to reply.  
  
'Well I'm going to bed now. Try not to destroy anything.' And with that he turned and walked out of the living room.  
  
My face darkened.  
  
I was so going to kill him.  
  
  
  
  
  
Please review  
  
Oh and can anyone tell me how to do three dots? 


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks everyone for reviewing.  
  
Uhmmm I just realised that I totally messed up on the first chapter and bits of the text didn't actually show when I posted it. I've changed it now so if you re-read it it might make a bit more sense.  
  
I just want to clear something up.  
  
This is HARRY's house not the Dursley's. I figured he wouldn't want to stay there any longer than necessary and as he is 23 at the time of this he'd probably have his own place anyway.  
  
  
  
  
  
I sat up half the night.  
  
I would say I spent it working out what I'd done to deserve this horror but it only took me about twenty seconds.  
  
Massacres, assassinations, torture, robbery, embezzlement, mass destruction and murder were just a few of the offences I held to my name.  
  
The rest of the time I stayed up purely due to habit.  
  
Although truthfully I was so tired I couldn't see straight.  
  
But I couldn't get to sleep, something to do with five years of neurotic anxiety and being in the same house as my sworn enemy.  
  
When I eventually managed to force myself to sleep, it was restless and full of sinister dreams.  
  
Like it always had been.  
  
The next morning I appeared in the kitchen, blurry eyed and wondering whether Potter drank coffee.  
  
He was already up, bright and chirpy, cooking up a storm.  
  
I hesitated before walking in the kitchen, wondering if he'd mind if I did then finally deciding I didn't care one way or another.  
  
'Do you want some breakfast?' He asked as I sat down at the kitchen table, pouring myself a cup of coffee.  
  
'Is it poisoned?' I asked, looking at him suspiciously.  
  
'Do you still think I'm trying to kill you?'  
  
'By the looks of it your food might do whether you're meaning it to or not.'  
  
He poked at the scrambled eggs with a large spoon, screwing up his nose as the spoon bounced right back off them.  
  
'How about a muffin then?' he offered brightly.  
  
OK I'd been in the room for less than two minutes and already I wanted to kill him.  
  
'Potter we talked about this being nice to me thing.'  
  
'Yeah and we never actually got anywhere with it.'  
  
'I told you to stop.'  
  
'So you don't want a muffin?'  
  
I looked at him in desperation; he looked back determinedly.  
  
'Fine.' I snapped. 'Just give me a damn muffin and shut the hell up.'  
  
'Ok.' He passed me a blueberry muffin.  
  
I chewed on it in contemplation, relieved that there was silence.  
  
'Could you pass me the orange juice?'  
  
I sighed, apparently he couldn't keep quiet very long.  
  
'Get it yourself.'  
  
'You're not a morning person then?'  
  
'I'm not an anything person Potter. I'm always like this.'  
  
His face fell. 'Damn I was kinda hoping you improved as the day went on.'  
  
'Not likely.' I said with satisfaction, seeing that he seemed fazed for the first time.  
  
He shrugged. 'Well isn't it a good thing that I'm this nice all the time as well.'  
  
'Do you have to be?'  
  
'Sorry?'  
  
'You're driving me mad!' I exclaimed, throwing the muffin down at the table.  
  
He opened his mouth to say something that would probably wind me up further and then stopped at the look I gave him.  
  
Moodily I picked the muffin back up and began picking at it.  
  
'I'm sorry.' He said suddenly.  
  
'What?'  
  
Potter hadn't just *apologised* had he?  
  
'I'm not quite sure how to behave.'  
  
Ok something really weird was going on here. It almost sounded like Potter was nervous about being around me.  
  
'Just - be yourself.' I said, feeling awkward.  
  
Insecurity played on his face and I watched it interestedly.  
  
I loved watching Potter- he was easier to read than a book. You could see every one of his feelings dance in his eyes.  
  
Feelings that I didn't have and that I spent a long time wondering about.  
  
By childhood hadn't been the most.typical in the world.  
  
Love wasn't a word in the Malfoy vocabulary whereas 'Crucio' was.  
  
I'd spent my life trying to make my father proud.  
  
I'd worked harder than anyone else in Slytherin and yet in everything except Potions I was only second best. Always beaten by that Mudblood friend of Potters.  
  
It was something I'd never forget- my father never had.  
  
Time and time again he'd told me that I was useless, a disgrace to the Malfoy name. My inadequacy had been drilled into my head so firmly that I'd believed him.  
  
Everything I did became a personal failure and I hated myself for it.  
  
The only thing that calmed me down was flying.  
  
Soaring through the crisp air had cleared my head, taking away all the criticism in my head.  
  
It had made me feel free- invincible.  
  
But then there was Potter.  
  
Potter who was so graceful and natural that I'd felt like a bumbling fool beside him.  
  
And the flying had begun to lose its fun.  
  
It became just another thing for Potter to beat me at, no longer fun but a ruthless competition.  
  
A competition that I'd never won.  
  
Everytime his hand clasped the Snitch before my own, the pain in my heart hurt far more than father's "admonishments".  
  
Because everytime he won, I lost not only the match but also a tiny part of myself.  
  
And let's face - he won a lot.  
  
So my childhood hadn't been great. A career with Voldemort wasn't much better.  
  
At least at school I'd always had the passion to keep trying, always had my anger to keep me going.  
  
But at Death Eater training (although they didn't call it that) every single emotion was trained (or beaten) out of you.  
  
I always found it a bit stupid, angry people always inflict more pain but I eventually lost the will to wonder why.  
  
Slowly I lost everything that was Draco Malfoy and replaced it with coldness.  
  
Sometimes I felt like I was made out of ice - no not ice- stone.  
  
Ice could melt.  
  
Stone was forever.  
  
'You alright?' He asked seriously, having abandoned the overly nice tone (much to my relief)  
  
'Yeah I'm just thinking.'  
  
I thought he was going to ask what about.  
  
I would have done but I guess curiosity must just be a Slytherin trait because he simply nodded and refilled my cup of coffee.  
  
'Do you have sugar?' He asked politely, a heaped teaspoon poised over my mug.  
  
'Don't you think I'm already sweet enough?' I asked with a smirk.  
  
'You wish.' He grinned.  
  
'Aww Potter I'm hurt.' I adopted a wounded tone.  
  
'No you're not.' Potter's expression was sceptical.  
  
'No- I'm not.' I agreed. 'Go ahead, put it in.'  
  
The sugar fell into my mug.  
  
'So what do you want to do today?' Potter asked.  
  
I took a sip of my coffee. 'Do?' I frowned. 'You want us to do something together?'  
  
Too late I realised how that sounded. 'I mean-'  
  
Could I get out of this one?  
  
I looked at Potter- he hadn't even noticed.  
  
'Well I figured since you're living here we might as well hang out.' He swallowed a mouthful of muffin. 'Unless you're too busy doing your hair.'  
  
I bristled.  
  
Nobody, but nobody, insulted the hair.  
  
'Well maybe you should follow my example,' I looked pointedly at his unruly hair, 'It looks like you seriously need to. Let's face it - dragged through a bush backwards was never in style.'  
  
A grin spread across his face, lighting up all his features. 'Cuz you've obviously dragged so many people through hedges backwards for you to be such an expert on the subject.'  
  
'You honestly do worry me sometimes Potter.'  
  
'Only sometimes?' He made a face, 'I worry myself all the time.'  
  
I laughed slightly.  
  
This whole situation seemed ridiculous.  
  
I was sitting in Harry Potter's kitchen with him, eating homemade muffins and joking about coffee and hair. How much more homely could it get?  
  
What made the situation infinitely weirder was the fact that it didn't feel weird at all.  
  
'Do you want to go watch TV?' He asked suddenly. 'There isn't much else to do around here.'  
  
I looked at him curiously, confused. 'Go watch *what*?'  
  
'TV.' He repeated, looking at me like I was crazy for a few moments before realisation dawned in his eyes. 'Oh you've never watched TV before??'  
  
He grinned at my blank look. 'God no wonder you want to kill muggles. I probably would do if I didn't know about the TV and the wonderful invention the microwave?'  
  
'The micro*what*?'  
  
He paused. 'Never mind.'  
  
This guy really was crazy.  
  
He jumped to his feet energetically. 'Come on.'  
  
'Come on where?' I asked, reluctant to move.  
  
He rolled his eyes and extended his hand.  
  
Before I'd thought it through I'd taken his hand and been yanked to my feet.  
  
'Ow.' I murmured. 'Are you trying to pull my arm off?'  
  
'You deserve it but no. Now come on!'  
  
Obediently I followed him from the kitchen into the living room.  
  
'Now what?' I asked, looking around the room for something that looked like it could keep me occupied.  
  
'Sit down.' He pushed me gently towards the sofa and I flopped on it gratefully.  
  
'Which one's the TV?' I looked at him expectantly.  
  
He pointed towards a black box. 'That one.'  
  
I turned my gaze to it, expecting something to happen.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
'That's a bit crap.' I told him.  
  
'It's not switched on yet you idiot.'  
  
'How was I supposed to know?' I said sulkily, feeling stupid.  
  
He leaned forward and pressed a button.  
  
Instantly the TV flickered and pictures appeared on it.  
  
'Wow.' I said in awe, leaning forward. 'That is so cool.'  
  
Harry grinned. 'Yeah.'  
  
'What's this do?' I picked up a square object with lots of buttons on it.  
  
Randomly I pressed one and suddenly the people on the TV were replaced with fishes.  
  
'What happened to those people?' I said in alarm. 'How did they turn into fishes?'  
  
Harry's lip twitched.  
  
I looked at him in panic and he burst out laughing.  
  
Three hours later, having watched countless 'programmes' and Harry having explained to me exactly what a TV was I could see why he'd laughed.  
  
Not that I forgave him - I just understood.  
  
The "programme" ended and the "break" came on and so I turned to Harry.  
  
'So what've you been up to since Hogwarts?' I asked, rearranging myself on the sofa. 'Apart from trying to kill me and all.'  
  
He screwed his face up, thinking. 'Uhh that's been about it actually.'  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'Come on Potter- you can't have been doing nothing but that for five years.'  
  
He looked at me helplessly.  
  
I sighed. 'Girlfriend?'  
  
He shook his head.  
  
'Boyfriend?'  
  
There was a pause and then he shook his head again.  
  
'Ghost?'  
  
He glared at me.  
  
I stifled a laugh. 'Ok fine. Have you got a dog?'  
  
Finally- a nod.  
  
'Well where is it then?'  
  
'She's gone to stay with Mione and Ron for a while.' Harry told me. 'I wasn't sure how you'd feel about having a dog around.'  
  
'Why'd you care what I think? It's your house after all.'  
  
He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. 'Well I figured that it'd be hard enough without winding you up anymore.'  
  
'I wouldn't have minded.' I shifted slightly. 'I always thought you'd have a dog.'  
  
'So there's no point asking you what you've been up to. You've obviously spent your time daydreaming about me and a dog.'  
  
I hit him slightly. 'Shut up!'  
  
'You said it not me.'  
  
'I didn't mean it like that.'  
  
'So how did you mean it?'  
  
'I just meant that you seem like a dog person. You know - loyal, kind- hearted, friendly.stupid.'  
  
His mouth dropped open in offence. 'I am not stupid!'  
  
'If you say so.' I turned my attention back to the TV.  
  
'I'm not!'  
  
'Let's face it Potter - Gryffindors aren't known for their intelligence.'  
  
Wow he was actually getting slightly wound up.  
  
'That's not true! Look at Hermione - she's hardly thick.'  
  
'And don't I know it.' I muttered.  
  
'What was that?' His eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
  
'Nothing.' I chorused.  
  
'I don't believe you.'  
  
'Now Gryffindors *are* supposed to be trusting. But obviously you're not a very good Gryffindor are you?'  
  
'Now that's not quite-'  
  
'Shhh!' I hissed. 'Will and Grace is back on.'  
  
Harry gave up and sat back whilst I happily immersed myself in the programme.  
  
Twenty seconds later though he began talking again.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
'Hmm?' I answered distractedly.  
  
'Why didn't you let Voldemort kill me?'  
  
Feeling vaguely uncomfortable I shrugged.  
  
'I want an answer Malfoy.' His voice was soft but firm.  
  
'You called me Malfoy.' I observed.  
  
'Don't change the subject.'  
  
'I wasn't.' I lied.  
  
'I thought you wanted me dead.'  
  
'I did- I do.' I hastily corrected myself.  
  
'So why am I still alive?'  
  
'I told you- you're an infuriating twat who just won't die.'  
  
'Draco-'  
  
'No.' I didn't want to think about my reasons. 'I don't want to talk about it.'  
  
His jaw tensed. 'Fine.'  
  
He said it in the tone of a sulky child who had been denied a present.  
  
But it wasn't my problem if he wanted to be childish. So I started watching the TV again.  
  
About to laugh at a joke, Potter once again distracted me from the programme.  
  
'Did you ever think about not being a Death Eater?'  
  
'Sometimes.' I answered warily, wondering where he was going with this.  
  
'I always hoped that you wouldn't, you know. I thought that you'd come to your senses and turn your back on your family, refuse to be a Death Eater.'  
  
I shook my head slightly. 'I would never have done that.'  
  
He tilted his head slightly. 'Not even that night.'  
  
Unbidden, memories of soft lips brushing mine sprung to mind.  
  
Memories of strong arms wrapped round me as I lost myself in a kiss that made me forget everything.  
  
He didn't have to say any more, my lips thinned and my eyes narrowed. 'No. Not that night- not ever.'  
  
He nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor.  
  
And in that instant I began to understand Harry Potter.  
  
'It's who I am.' I said quietly, 'it always has been.'  
  
'So if I'd asked you to-' He broke off, a blush staining his features. 'Never mind.'  
  
'Potter,' I shuffled towards him a little bit, 'if you'd ever spoken to me again it might have had a little bit of an effect. But then again it might not have done. It doesn't matter anymore - what's done it done.'  
  
'And you can't undo it.' He looked at me intently, his green eyes shining with something I couldn't identify. 'You can't take it back.'  
  
'Did you want to?' I asked before I could stop myself.  
  
Surprise crossed his features and then reluctance entered his eyes.  
  
'You know what forget I said anything.' I said quickly. 'It was a stupid question.'  
  
~You idiot you idiot you idiot ~ I told myself. ~What did you go and ask that for? ~  
  
Because I wanted to know.  
  
The realisation surprised me.  
  
I wanted to know how he felt about it.  
  
'It wasn't a stu-' He started.  
  
'Yes it was. Pretend I didn't say it.' I was getting increasingly uncomfortable.  
  
'Draco-'  
  
'I'm going to go and have a shower.' I leapt to my feet, not wanting to talk about this anymore. 'I'll see you later.'  
  
And before he could try again to tell me something I didn't want to hear I raced out of the room.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ok so please review and tell me what you think. 


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
Thanks everyone for reviewing!  
  
This fic seems to be taking over my life even thought I really should be writing another one and revising for exams!  
  
But oh well- as long as people are enjoying it  
  
  
  
  
  
I stared out of the window, watching the passing muggles with a mixture of interest and hate.  
  
Trust Potter to have a house in the middle of a bloody Muggle neighbourhood.  
  
I hated it.  
  
There was no magic, no interesting oddities.  
  
There was just a load of "electrical appliances" that I couldn't understand how to use.  
  
Plus the fact that I was totally useless without my wand.  
  
Ever since I was born I'd been surrounded by magic.  
  
Even before I could use my own, either my parents or the house elves had done everything for me with magic.  
  
And after I'd started Hogwarts I'd become accustomed to using my magic for everything - nevermind the fact that I wasn't strictly supposed to. But Malfoy Manor was surrounded by such immense wards that nobody would ever be able to tell I was using magic.  
  
And now I was in a place where most of the inhabitants believed magic didn't exist.  
  
I shuddered.  
  
Talk about a shock to the system.  
  
I felt helpless without magic, like I was missing a limb.  
  
That feeling made it even more of a shock that Potter rarely used his wand.  
  
I didn't know if he usually didn't use magic or if he was just doing it to make me feel a bit better.  
  
But what I would give to have his wand in my hands.  
  
His literal wand that is.  
  
Not that it had occurred to me that it could be taken any other way.  
  
Oh I so badly needed to shut myself up.  
  
To keep my brain from digging itself any deeper I trampled down the stairs to the kitchen, where Potter seemed to spend most of his time.  
  
And sure enough there the little hero was, chomping his way through a pile of toast.  
  
'Do you ever do anything other than eat?' I asked as I sat on the breakfast bar.  
  
'Uhmm.' Potter considered it. 'No.'  
  
'Why am I not surprised?'  
  
'I dunno why are you not surprised.' Potter kept a straight face although his eyes twinkle.  
  
'Shut up.'  
  
'Ok.'  
  
Potter continued munching on his toast and I read the "cartoon strip" section of the newspaper.  
  
It was so weird. The characters in it didn't move.  
  
'Draco.'  
  
Potter had reached the end of his toast.  
  
'What Potter?'  
  
'Why'd you do it?'  
  
I sighed, was he ever going to leave this alone? Who cares why I'd saved him?  
  
'This is getting old you know.'  
  
'So is you not answering.'  
  
'What makes you think I'm going to tell you now?'  
  
'Nothing- I just figured there was no harm in asking.'  
  
I glared at him.  
  
'How about a hint?' he asked hopefully.  
  
'Potter why is this so important to you?' I snapped. 'You're alive - yay! Let's leave it at that.'  
  
'Don't feel like you have to sound so happy about me being alive.'  
  
'Well you're giving me a migraine.' He was actually and I rubbed my temples.  
  
Ever since I'd killed Voldemort I'd become prone to migraines and dizziness, a fact that was probably due to the instability of my magical energy.  
  
'Are you alright?' He asked softly, his annoyance forgotten.  
  
'I would be if you'd bloody shut up.' I snapped.  
  
There was silence.  
  
At first it was pleasant but after a while it began to piss me off.  
  
'I didn't mean literally.'  
  
'Oh sorry.' Potter smiled lazily at me.  
  
My heart suddenly began to beat a bit faster.  
  
~He looks gorgeous when he does that~  
  
I choked.  
  
Gorgeous?? Potter??  
  
Wow this migraine was affecting me more than I thought.  
  
'Are you ok?' Potter hit my back as I choked.  
  
'Yeah- fine.' I said hastily. 'I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit though.'  
  
~Maybe you can join me~  
  
With a yelp (how embarrassing) I raced out of the kitchen, feeling Potter's eyes staring after me in confusion.  
  
A loooong time afterwards, having calmed myself down from the traumatic thoughts that had been inside my head, I returned downstairs.  
  
I heard voices coming from the living room and I froze, wondering if someone was there.  
  
Potter sounded frustrated and I crept up to the door, trying to hear more.  
  
'Blake I keep telling you. I have someone here- I can't leave.'  
  
I peered round the door interestedly.  
  
Some bloke's head was floating in the fireplace.  
  
'Harry this is urgent - everything's in total chaos- we need you!'  
  
'What part of "time off" don't you understand?' Potter said desperately.  
  
'What part of "total chaos" don't *you* understand?'  
  
There was a small pause.  
  
'Blake.'  
  
'Look Harry we could really do with some help, you don't really even need to come back for very long. Just come here for a couple of hours and we'll give you a copy of the info we have so far and give you a heads up of what's been going on.'  
  
Somehow it seemed wrong for a floating head to be saying "heads up".  
  
Potter sighed, his resolve obviously wearing away.  
  
'Then you can go straight back home and we'll just keep in contact ok?' Floating head bloke's voice was persuasive.  
  
'Look I'll have to talk to my friend about it- he's not very-'  
  
'He???' Blake's voice took on an amused tone. 'Don't tell me you've finally gone and got yourself a boyfriend.'  
  
'No!' Potter flushed and I held back a chuckle at his expression. 'No he's just.a friend.'  
  
'Ok.' Blake sounded unconvinced. 'Well talk to your *friend* and then get back to me.'  
  
'I will.'  
  
'Bye Harry.'  
  
The head disappeared.  
  
'Since when did we become *friends*?' I asked with a smirk.  
  
He spun around in shock. 'Wh-what?'  
  
'Unless someone is else is staying with you.' I sat down on the sofa. 'I definitely heard you describe your guest as your friend.'  
  
'Oh that.' Potter relaxed slightly. 'Well what else was I supposed to tell him? "Yeah I've got a mass murderer staying with me who just happened to be Voldemort's second in command and who pretty much the entire wizarding world is after"??"  
  
'Would have made me feel better.' I smirked.  
  
'Well sorry Draco but not all of us are here to inflate your ego.' Potter snapped moodily.  
  
'Ooh touchy.' I raised an eyebrow.  
  
'Yeah well if you weren't such a prat then I wouldn't have to be.'  
  
I was a prat?  
  
Talk about Voldemort calling a Death Eater evil.  
  
I sat with my arms folded until I decided that a scowl just looked abnormally wrong on Potter's face.  
  
'You know, for the record, if you left me for a couple of hours I wouldn't blow anything up.'  
  
'What?' Potter looked at me moodily.  
  
'Well I don't have a wand, I'm too weak to do wandless magic, there is nothing magical in this entire bloody place and there's no way I can get out of here.' I summarised. 'Therefore I think it's relatively easy to say I can't cause mass destruction or kill anybody.'  
  
He looked tempted.for a second. 'I'm not supposed to leave you.'  
  
'And who am I going to tell?'  
  
'Good point.'  
  
I was slowly wearing him down.  
  
'Maybe just for an hour.' He relented after a thoughtful pause. 'Even you can't cause that much trouble in an hour right?'  
  
'Sure why not?' I semi-agreed.  
  
He glared.  
  
'I mean- right!' I corrected myself quickly.  
  
His face transformed into smiles. 'Right then.'  
  
He rummaged on his mantelpiece and appeared with a handful of floo powder. 'I'll be back in a bit.'  
  
Idly wondering what was on the TV I waved a hand half-heartedly in a farewell gesture.  
  
'Be good.' He instructed me.  
  
I raised my eyebrows sceptically and gave him a look that more than implied he was mad.  
  
'Ok- be less bad then.'  
  
'I'll try.'  
  
And he was gone in a blaze of green light, leaving the house suddenly quiet and empty.  
  
'Ok.' I mused. 'What to do now?'  
  
Well duh - obvious answer - TV.  
  
Halfway through something called Changing Rooms I heard a noise that sounded like the wails people make when they're dying.  
  
Well used to those wails I ignored it.  
  
However the more I tried to ignore it, the louder and more piercing it became.  
  
Finally, unable to hear the TV no matter how much I turned the volume up, I stormed to the door and unlocked it.  
  
Ready to shout my head off at whoever had the nerve to be dying on the doorstep I paused as I saw nothing but a cat.  
  
'Piss off.' I told it.  
  
It stared at me.  
  
'Go away you stupid cat.' I tried to shoo it away but ended up hitting my fist on the invisible barrier on the door.  
  
'Ow!' I shouted, clutching my fist.  
  
The cat took this opportunity to stroll inside.  
  
'Oh no you don't. Come back here!' I yelled, running after the cat who was busy climbing the stairs.  
  
Faster than the speed of light it shot up the stairs and down the corridor, leaving me chasing helplessly after it.  
  
It disappeared into my bedroom and, panting, I stepped through the door.  
  
It stared at me imperiously from its position on my bed.  
  
'You're not staying there.'  
  
It blinked, obviously unconcerned by my threats.  
  
I walked over to the bed and I reached to pick it up.  
  
It hissed at me and I withdrew quickly, not wanting to take on an angry cat when I didn't have my wand.  
  
'You damned creature.' I told it.  
  
It ignored me and rolled over.  
  
Oh well. Potter could deal with it when he came back.  
  
If he ever came back that was.  
  
I looked at the clock.  
  
'One hour my ass.' I snorted.  
  
He'd been gone for two and a half hours.  
  
I guess Blake found a reason to hold him up.  
  
Not that I cared.  
  
I mean it wasn't like I missed him or anything.  
  
Though it was rather boring without him there.  
  
I sat down on the chair facing the fireplace and watched it.  
  
Not that I was waiting for Potter, just to make that clear, I just like watching fireplaces.  
  
I grabbed an apple and began taking small bites of it.  
  
What felt like an age later there was a small flash and Potter appeared from the fireplace holding a large stack of papers.  
  
'You've not destroyed anything have you?' He asked me, only half joking.  
  
'Nope.' I told him triumphantly, sticking my tongue out at him.  
  
'Good.'  
  
He set the pile down at the table and sat down immediately, immersing himself in the paperwork.  
  
I took another bite of my apple, watching him.  
  
'Potter do you have a cat?' I asked suddenly.  
  
'No, why?' he was reading one of the pieces of paper.  
  
'No reason.' I lied.  
  
I thought of the cat lying in my room.  
  
'Potter?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'You do now.'  
  
He put the paper down. 'What?? I do what now?'  
  
'You have a cat.' I informed him.  
  
'Sorry?' Confusion shadowed his face.  
  
'Well I accidentally opened the door today and some cat came running in and now it won't go away.'  
  
Potter sighed wearily. 'You *accidentally* opened the door?'  
  
'Uh.yeah.'  
  
'Oh.' He returned to reading the papers.  
  
'Aren't you upset?' I pressed. 'I mean you have just obtained a cat.'  
  
'No I haven't. *You* have.'  
  
I dropped the quill I'd been playing with. 'What? I don't want a cat!'  
  
'Well neither do I.' Potter looked at me evenly. 'You're the one that let the cat in so you can be the one who looks after it.'  
  
'But I don't know what to do!'  
  
'I'm sure you'll learn. It'll teach you responsibility.'  
  
I groaned. 'Potter.'  
  
And speaking of the devil, the cat ran into the room.  
  
'That it?' Potter nodded towards the cat.  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'No Potter that's my coat.'  
  
He shot me a small glare but stretched his hand out towards the cat. 'Here kitty kitty kitty.'  
  
If I were that cat I'd so smack him round the head.  
  
The cat trotted up to him and stared at him.  
  
'Good cat.' Potter cooed, moving his hand to stroke the cat.  
  
In a flash its claws were embedded in his hand.  
  
Potter let out a yell of pain and clutched his hand.  
  
Looking thoroughly satisfied, the cat stalked towards me and sat by my feet.  
  
I snorted with laughter, maybe having a cat wouldn't be that bad after all.  
  
'That bloody cat!' Potter yelled.  
  
'You can't shout at it for having good taste.' I said smugly.  
  
'No, but I can throw it out the bloody house!'  
  
'You can't get rid of it.' I told him, smirking. 'It's teaching me responsibility.'  
  
Potter looked ready to jump off a cliff as his own words came back and bit him on the ass.  
  
'Well it better teach you far away from me.' He muttered threateningly.  
  
'Fair enough.' I stroked the cat hesitantly, smiling when I found it didn't attack me.  
  
'So what is it exactly that you do?' I changed the subject before Potter killed my cat.  
  
Potter grimaced, looking more like the sixteen year old who would forever survive in my memories than the twenty three year old he was. 'Well since the war started I've been leading a team of specialised aurors.'  
  
'I didn't know you were an auror.' I propped my head up, intrigued.  
  
He grinned. 'I'm not. They wanted me to be but I told them where to shove it,' he paused, frowning, 'in a nicer politer sort of way.'  
  
'But if you're not an auror-'  
  
He shrugged. 'What can I say? Boy who lived- gets you everywhere in life.'  
  
I smirked wryly. 'Told you.'  
  
'I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.' He grinned at me, his dark hair falling messily in his eyes.  
  
'If that makes you feel better.'  
  
'So-' He said pointedly, 'I basically am - or is it was?- trying to bring about your downfall.'  
  
'Yeah but what do you actually *do*?' I stressed.  
  
'Classified information.' Potter grinned impishly. 'Can't tell you that.'  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'Honestly Potter! Like you've ever paid attention to rules before.'  
  
'I have paid at-' He started indignantly.  
  
'Blatant disregard sounds more like your feelings towards rules.' I stretched slightly. 'I mean- I'm here aren't I?'  
  
He opened his mouth to retort then closed it. 'Yeah fair enough.' He admitted sheepishly.  
  
'So spill.'  
  
'Well we piece together information we receive to try and work out where the Death Eaters are going to strike next - a job easier said than done.'  
  
'I know.' I said smugly.  
  
Potter paused suddenly in his explanation. 'Did you actually have some sort of system or was it just erratic attacks on random people.'  
  
I sniffed. 'Potter. Of course I had a system- just not a very obvious one.'  
  
'Figures.' He murmured. 'Like your flying.'  
  
My eyes narrowed. 'My flying's *erratic*?'  
  
He flushed, 'I didn't mean it like that.'  
  
'Well you better tell me how you did mean it before I smack you in the face with this,' I struggled to find the words, 'flippy thing.'  
  
'Spatula.' Potter corrected me automatically.  
  
'Whatever.' I scowled. 'Now explain 'erratic' away.'  
  
'I just meant that in Quidditch it sometimes seemed to everyone else that your beaters were just randomly hitting bludgers at anything that crossed their path. Your side never seemed to have any structure or purpose- it just was.'  
  
'I'll have you know Potter, that my players couldn't so much as itch their nose without it being in my game plan.' I exploded. 'Every little thing was planned down to the last detail. I put hours and hours of planning into-'  
  
'Draco.' Potter interrupted me calmly, a small smile curving his lips upwards. 'I know.'  
  
'You do?' I asked warily.  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'You're not just trying to shut me up?'  
  
'No- well. ' He considered it.  
  
'Potter.' I said warningly.  
  
'Of course I'm not.'  
  
I glared- he grinned.  
  
'Honestly, I always knew you had a strategy, a really good one at that, by rights you should have won every single game you played.'  
  
'I did.' I said airily. 'Just not against you.'  
  
'Oh.' Potter looked down suddenly, awkwardness playing over his face.  
  
'I'm a bad loser Potter- I always have been. I always said that you were cheating but I think the fact you won every game you played may amount to the fact that you're a good Quidditch player- one of the best.'  
  
'You too.' He said suddenly, looking embarrassed at my words.  
  
'Potter you beat me everytime.' I said frankly. 'That hardly suggests that- '  
  
'You were good.' He blurted. 'Ok maybe you couldn't beat me but I had a damn hard time beating you.'  
  
'You did?' I asked, wishing that this wasn't so important to me.  
  
He nodded with a wry grin. 'Yep- playing against you was the only time it was really fun - the only time I really felt that rush. Everybody else I could have beaten with both hands tied behind my back. You definitely kept me on my toes,' He shrugged slightly, 'you still do.'  
  
~Stop caring, stop caring, stop caring. ~ I inwardly chanted. ~It's only bloody Quidditch. ~  
  
He laughed suddenly. 'This is so stupid. It's weirder discussing Quidditch than it is discussing the fact we were both trying to kill each other three weeks ago.'  
  
'Some of us still are.' I informed him, not quiet achieving the acid tone I was aiming for.  
  
'Sorry I forgot.' He said sarcastically.  
  
'You know it's funny I've never seen you during a raid.' I mused.  
  
He snorted. 'Like you'd lower yourself to attend run-of-the-mill raids. You sent all your little Death Eater lackeys to do it for you.'  
  
I grinned. 'What? You were expecting me to soil my hands with mudblood guts?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Good.'  
  
'I'm just saying that the only times we could have met were during the big raids. And in all honesty we had no idea when or where they were going to take place until everybody there was dead.'  
  
'That's what I like to hear.'  
  
Potter glared at me.  
  
'Hang on.' I looked at him suspiciously, a thought suddenly occurring to me. 'You're not the people who kept making the targets disappear before we got there are you?'  
  
Potter smirked. 'So what if we are?'  
  
'You git!' I growled, fuming. 'Do you know how irritating that was??'  
  
'Do you know how little I care?' Potter asked wickedly.  
  
'Yeah well you majorly pissed Voldemort off. He was convinced that there was a spy among us. I had to execute half of the fourth unit to stop him whining!'  
  
'Voldemort whines?' Potter looked floored momentarily.  
  
'Oh big time.' I nodded to emphasise my point.  
  
'He doesn't seem the whining type.'  
  
'What type does he seem then?' I asked curiously.  
  
'The "let's go all mental and kill everybody" type.' Potter edged away from the cat, who was eyeing him.  
  
'Well that too.' I smirked at the look of fear on Potter's face.  
  
'So you liked being a Death Eater?' Potter asked.  
  
'Well yeah.' I frowned. 'I've never really thought about it but I guess so. It wasn't the best paid job in the world but who needs money when you have ultimate power and can steal anything you want.'  
  
'Oh.'  
  
'Why? Don't you like it? Your job I mean?'  
  
'Not really.'  
  
I was flooded with surprise. Potter didn't like saving people??  
  
'Then why do you do it?'  
  
He shrugged. 'Someone has to.'  
  
'Yeah but that somebody doesn't have to be you.' I pointed out.  
  
'It does at the moment. As long as this whole Death Eater crap is still around I have to keep doing it. But the second that's all over I'm going to be straight at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry of magic applying for a job?'  
  
'The Ministry of Magic?'  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
I wrinkled my nose. 'But that's so *boring*!'  
  
'I would give anything for my life to be boring.' Potter said seriously.  
  
'But you're action man!' I exclaimed. 'You're the boy who lived you can't be stuck in some desk job working all hours of the- why are you smiling like that?' I snapped.  
  
He tried unsuccessfully to hide his grin. 'Action man.'  
  
I gave him an uncomprehending look.  
  
'Action man! It's a - oh never mind.'  
  
'It's what you do best!' I carried on regardless.  
  
'Yeah and I do it so well I end up a prisoner in a Death Eater base.'  
  
I shrugged.  
  
'But then again I'm still alive.' He continued.  
  
I kept my mouth shut, knowing where this was heading.  
  
'I don't know why I am but I am.'  
  
Still not saying anything.  
  
'I mean if you hadn't decided that you weren't that evil after all then I would probably be-'  
  
'Not that evil?' I burst.  
  
'Well isn't that why you did it?' He looked at me innocently.  
  
I knew he was just trying to wind me up but I didn't care.  
  
'You want to know why Potter?' I hissed dangerously. 'Do you want to know why you're not six feet under at this very moment- if there was even enough of you left to bury?'  
  
He didn't reply, surprised by the venom in my tone.  
  
'I didn't want you dead. I wanted to kill you. For 10 years that was my ambition; the thought that inspired me.'  
  
'But Voldemort was-'  
  
'Nothing to do with this. This is between us. You want to know why you wouldn't let this auror take me? Because we've known everyday for the last 10 years what it would come down to. You and me. It was always meant to be this way. He doesn't know anything Potter. He doesn't know what to say to drive you so crazy you can't feel anything but hate. He doesn't know what to do to hurt you more than any spell ever could. He doesn't know Potter. But I do.'  
  
There was a pause.  
  
A pause in which the intensity of my words hung between us.  
  
And then he spoke.  
  
'That's almost kind of sweet in a sick kind of way.'  
  
The tension broke immediately.  
  
I groaned. 'Must you turn everything into sunshine and happy bunnies? Me wanting to kill you is not *sweet*.'  
  
'No.' He agreed. 'I guess it's not.'  
  
'At last! We agree on something.' I fought back a smile.  
  
I never smiled.  
  
Smiling was a sign of contentment and a Death Eater was never content.  
  
They always craved more. Nothing would ever satisfy their lust for power and destruction.  
  
'If it makes you feel any better,' Potter looked at me from underneath his fringe, 'I can't think of anyone I'd like to kill me more.'  
  
And that did it.  
  
A smile spread across my face, dazzling in its brightness.  
  
Potter really did have a habit of ruining everything.  
  
He smiled back.  
  
And it felt good.  
  
A warmth spread through me and then the smile wouldn't go away no matter how hard I tried.  
  
'You know you should smile more often.' Potter tilted his head, a teasing look in his green eyes. 'You could break every heart between here and Australia.'  
  
'Even yours?'  
  
I was taken aback by the question that came out of my lips. Where had that come from.  
  
'Yeah.' The answer was so quiet I could barely hear it. 'Even mine.'  
  
Our eyes and I felt the warmth in me increasing in heat, staining my features with a pink blush.  
  
Ok smiling I could probably put up with.  
  
But blushing???  
  
In a second my features were cold and poised once more. 'Well at least that would give me something to talk about.' I sneered coldly.  
  
Surprise and hurt shadowed his face.  
  
I turned and walked out of the room, hating myself for looking back over my shoulder.  
  
Potter was standing dejectedly, sadness dancing over his features.  
  
And I hated myself even more.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Wow that was the chapter of all chapters - how long was that???  
  
  
  
  
  
Still pretty crap though.  
  
Leave a review and tell me watcha think. 


	5. Chapter 5

OK.  
  
Thanks everybody who reviewed - I appreciate it SOOOOO much.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'How are you doing?' Potter asked, leaning on the back of a nearby chair.  
  
I ignored him, switching the TV station over.  
  
He sighed. 'Draco.'  
  
I pointedly set my gaze on the TV.  
  
He could "Draco" all he wanted - it wasn't going to get him anywhere.  
  
I mean who did he think he was?  
  
How dare he put me through all these.I didn't even know what they were!  
  
I jabbed my finger angrily at another button.  
  
All I knew is that suddenly everything he said or did has some sort of effect on me.  
  
It felt like someone had set my insides on fire and that suddenly all the blood was rushing to my head.  
  
It felt like I was losing control.  
  
And I never lost control.  
  
Never.  
  
'Will you just talk to me?' Potter snapped.  
  
No actually.  
  
Which is something that should have entered your thick skull because in case you haven't noticed - IM NOT TALKING TO YOU!!!  
  
'Draco!'  
  
Wow he was starting to get quite whiny.  
  
It's as if no-one's ever stopped talking to him before.  
  
Hmm . . . maybe people didn't do that on the side of the light.  
  
If true then they were really missing out.  
  
It is so easy to annoy people by simply not doing anything.  
  
Although it was a masterful art only few could excel at.  
  
I must admit though- this whole "being childish" thing was getting boring really quickly.  
  
'Why aren't you talking to me?' He asked desperately.  
  
'Now Potter.' I smirked. 'If I wasn't talking to you then I couldn't very well tell you that.'  
  
'You're talking!' He exclaimed in shock, his eyes widening.  
  
I gave him a "well duh" look. 'How clever of you to notice. So what's for dinner?'  
  
Flummoxed he blinked at me, amazed by my sudden turnaround.  
  
'Cat got your tongue Potter?'  
  
Cat. Potter's face darkened at the word.  
  
Strange that a perfectly harmless, (well relatively harmless- I'd seen what it could do with those claws) innocent cat could inspire Potter to such anger, especially considering I couldn't.  
  
He sent it an evil glare and seeing it, I sent it a small smile.  
  
The cat looked at me with a look that said 'mission accomplished'.  
  
This cat and me seemed to think along the same lines.  
  
Strangest cat I'd ever seen actually.  
  
It was jet black with orange eyes.  
  
I scratched between his ears thoughtfully.  
  
'So what are you calling him?' Potter asked warily, unsure of whether I would retreat back into silence.  
  
I smiled wryly. 'Crucio.'  
  
Potter flinched looking at me cagily.  
  
'What?'  
  
'I'm calling it Crucio.'  
  
'Why?' Potter was incredulous.  
  
I shrugged, smirking inwardly. 'Seemed like a familiar word I guess.'  
  
'Oh. right.' Potter looked like he was starting to regret having somebody with such a lot of issues to stay with him.  
  
'Just be careful not to call it when you're holding a wand.' I beamed at him. 'Or else we might not be on speaking terms for a long time.'  
  
'You have a really warped sense of humour do you know that?'  
  
'Yup.' I scowled as soon as I said it. Obviously living with Potter was having a terrible effect on my speech. A Malfoy didn't "yup".  
  
'Just checking.'  
  
'So what *is* for dinner?' I prodded.  
  
'Like I know.'  
  
I sighed. 'Well it's your house- you're supposed to know what food is in it.'  
  
'Well we have,' he paused, searching his memory, 'water.'  
  
'Water?' I wrinkled my nose up. 'Is that it?'  
  
'I think so.'  
  
'So what go going to make?'  
  
He blinked. 'Uhh.I thought we talked about this- water.'  
  
'Potter you cannot really expect me to survive on water. Maybe you can, and that of course would explain why you're so skinny, but I can't.'  
  
'I've not got anything else to feed you with!' He exclaimed.  
  
'You're a bit of an idiot aren't you?' I asked seriously.  
  
'No.' Curiosity entered his eyes. 'Why'd you say that?'  
  
I snorted. 'Call yourself a wizard? Just wave your wand and get something to eat!'  
  
'Ooh right.' He said sheepishly. 'What do you want?'  
  
I waved my hand magnanimously. 'You choose.'  
  
'Oh thanks.' He said sarcastically.  
  
'No problem.'  
  
'You know Draco sometimes you are so-'  
  
Just as I was beginning to wonder if I'd finally gotten to him he stopped.  
  
'So.?' I prompted hopefully.  
  
His lips curled upwards. 'So *you*.'  
  
Was that an insult?  
  
'I don't get it.'  
  
'No I suppose not.'  
  
Now that sounded more insulting but it still wasn't up to my normal standard.  
  
'Oh whatever!' I exclaimed finally. 'Just go...cook or something!'  
  
Potter rolled his eyes but to my surprise did as I asked.  
  
You would have thought that he wouldn't have taken that from anybody, especially not his enemy.  
  
Not that he'd been treating me very much like an enemy.  
  
In fact he seemed to be going out of his way to be nice to me.  
  
Unless he'd been told to, to see if I was going to tell him anything or to get me on his side.  
  
Then again that would mean Dumbledore would have been nice but when I was in private with him he seemed to be barely polite.  
  
Seems I didn't need Potter to give me a headache- I was perfectly capable of giving myself one.  
  
Oh well I was so hungry I wasn't going to complain if he was fine about cooking for me.  
  
I'd worry about his motives some other time.  
  
Speaking of time.Potter was taking an awfully long amount of it to make some food.  
  
'Potter!' I shouted at the top of my lungs. 'Potter what is taking so long?'  
  
There was no reply.  
  
'Scarhead!' I tried. 'Boy who lived? Almost saviour of the wizarding world???'  
  
Nothing seemed to be working.  
  
With an annoyed sigh I got up and walked to the kitchen.  
  
He was standing in the corridor, brushing dust off himself with his hand.  
  
'Potter, *why* are you covered in dust?' I folded my arms in exasperation.  
  
'Uhh.' He looked at me guiltily.  
  
'I thought you were making dinner.' I gave him an accusing look.  
  
'I was!'  
  
I gave him a look.  
  
'I *was*! It's just your bloody cat turned up and decided to run off with a piece of bacon and so I was chasing it.'  
  
That did sound like a typical Potter thing to do.  
  
'And I ended up in the attic and I found some really cool stuff.'  
  
'Unless it's edible I don't care.' I told him.  
  
'I think you will.' He smiled slightly. 'I found this.'  
  
He slid a leather book across the table to me.  
  
I picked it up and studied the cover carefully.  
  
It was a plain leather cover with the Hogwarts crest embossed.  
  
'It's our yearbook.' He told me.  
  
I sighed. 'I can see that.'  
  
'Oh sorry.' He said sheepishly.  
  
'And why do you feel the need to tell me that you found our yearbook?' I asked disdainfully.  
  
Wordlessly he flipped the front cover open.  
  
I scanned it for something interesting, stopping as I noticed my own handwriting.  
  
Watch your back Potter  
  
DM  
  
'From anyone else that would have sounded like the typical concerned statement everybody was making as we prepared for the inevitable war.'  
  
A small grin lit his face. 'But from you it was a threat. A threat that implied I had only better watch my back because you would be the one behind it with a brandished wand, ready to Avarda Kedavra me away.'  
  
He paused, switching the TV over. 'You were going to kill me.'  
  
'Still are if you'd only give me the bloody chance.' I muttered.  
  
He grinned. 'Would you really?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Aww Draco I know you don't mean that.' A mischievous look lit up his face and he leaned closer to me. 'I know you love me really.' He breathed.  
  
Despite myself the effect was instantaneous.  
  
I jumped to my feet. 'Do you want a drink?' I asked uncomfortably.  
  
He snickered. 'Sure.'  
  
Holy shit Potter was in a weird mood.  
  
It almost seemed like he was flirting with me.  
  
I laughed nervously as I poured a glass of water.  
  
I mean obviously he wasn't.right?  
  
No that was stupid. Of course he wasn't flirting with me.  
  
He was just . . .  
  
Flirting with me.  
  
Damn.  
  
'Crap!' I shouted as I noticed the water had overflowed the glass and was currently spilling all over the floor.  
  
~That settles it. Potter's cast a spell on me. Nothing else could make me act like this. ~  
  
'Something wrong?' Potter's voice distracted me from my thoughts.  
  
'No.' I yelled back.  
  
'Ok.'  
  
I searched for something to wipe up the water with.  
  
This would be so much easier with a wand.  
  
Then again . . .  
  
I stopped thoughtfully.  
  
It would evaporate anyway so I might as well just leave it.  
  
Sounded good.  
  
I left the kitchen and headed back to the living room.  
  
'What you doing?' I asked Potter who was poring over the papers again.  
  
He was only half-listening and a frown was etched on his forehead. 'I'm just trying to work out where the Death Eater bases are.'  
  
Oh fun.  
  
Potter was trying to find out the location of my side so that he could have us all blown to oblivion.  
  
I knew I should have gone mad and shouted, or set it on fire or something but honestly I couldn't really find the will to care.  
  
Uhh . . .  
  
I mean . . .  
  
That I was going to see how close he was so I could. stop him??  
  
'Can I have a look?' I asked.  
  
He hesitated, looking uncomfortably from me to the maps.  
  
'I swear I won't put you off the scent.' I rolled my eyes. 'Honestly Potter how old do you think I am? Who knows? I might even let something slip.'  
  
'Yeah and Hell just froze over.' Potter said with a twinge of sarcasm.  
  
'Ooh Potter I'm wounded.' I put my hands over my chest in fake pain. 'I can't believe you don't think I'm a nice person.'  
  
He laughed slightly.  
  
Was I joking around with Harry Potter???  
  
'Ok you can look.' He said finally, sliding a chair up to the table.  
  
'Cool.' I winced at my words. This day was getting worse and worse by the second.  
  
I scanned the map; taking note of the thumbtacks stuck in at random points.  
  
Given the accuracy of the pins I was really wondering how we hadn't destroyed this side years ago.  
  
I snorted as I spotted one of his guesses. 'Ramsbottom??'  
  
'Yeah.' Potter said defensively. 'It's a very highly populated half and half area.'  
  
I looked closer at the map. 'But Potter,' I tried to control my laughter. 'Would I really have a base in Upper Ramsbottom???'  
  
'Well . . . '  
  
'Oh Merlin can you imagine it?' I adopted a news reporter's voice. ' So Mr Malfoy where is your top secret Death Eater Base?' I switched back to my voice. 'Upper Ramsbottom.' I exploded into laughter again.  
  
'Shut up Malfoy.' Potter mumbled, looking thoroughly embarrassed.  
  
'Awww is ickle Potter feeling all embawassed?'  
  
He glared.  
  
'Alright alright.' I grinned at him, scanning the rest of the page.  
  
'Apart from Upper Ramsbottom,' I paused to hold back my laughter again. 'your guesses aren't *that* stupid.'  
  
'They're not guesses.' Potter said indignantly. 'They're highly intelligent deductions, worked out from top secret information that.' he trailed off at my look. 'Yeah alright they're guesses.'  
  
As if I hadn't known.  
  
'This one.' I tapped the pin stuck in Hampstead. 'It's pretty close- not exact but relatively close. You might want to work on that.'  
  
'Thanks.' Potter looked slightly stunned.  
  
'No problem- I just hope you like ice skating.'  
  
'Huh?'  
  
'Hell? Freezing over?' At his confused gaze I gave up. 'Oh never mind.'  
  
He frowned slightly, having forgotten his own earlier words.  
  
I shouldn't have done that, I knew, but. . .  
  
I just hated proving people right.  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for reading - pleeeeaaase leave a review cuz they keep me going!  
  
Also my summary for this story is terrible, can anyone come up with any ideas for what it should say??  
  
Tell me what you think of this chapter and the story so far! 


	6. Chapter 6

Ok thanks to everybody who reviewed - I love you all so much!  
  
There's just a couple of things I'd like to say  
  
She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc - Thankyou very much for your review - it was nice to hear what you really thought. I don't think Harry's being stupid, he may be coming across as it but I think really if you were stuck in a house with a Death Eater who (tries not to give anything away) you may kinda have feelings for you'd do one of two things. 1) Beat your head repeatedly on a desk saying "why? Why me??" and hide in your room all the time or 2) be overly cheerful to kinda make up for the evil bloke who's not at his most chipper. I think Harry isn't the sort of person to hide in his room so he got stuck with cheerful. Ok.the big subject! *That night*. I agree that if that was the only reference I had to it, it *would* kind of be totally pointless but it's not going to be. It is very relevant for some of the story, just not necessarily Draco's POV. (Sorry for being deliberately cagey but I don't wanna tell you everything). It's gonna come up again in quite a lot of detail. Draco didn't save Harry cuz he had any feelings for him. Due to.complications let's say *that night* had more negative effects on his "relationship" with Harry than good ones. Ok I'm rambling. Leave me a review if you wanna know anything else. P.S. When did they suddenly start calling each other by their first names? I'm a bit lost there.  
  
Triton Bloom - LOL. Love the cat quote. There is going to be something like that in a later chapter but not the exact same thing. Though I am awfully tempted just to use that!  
  
wintermoon - this is actually about "Mine" but seeing as that's kinda finished I thought I'd reply to you here. I totally know how you feel about parallel similarities between stories! I'm having the same problem with another fic I'm writing. I just wanna say not to worry about accidentally copying anything of mine. Don't call it copying just "being inspired by". If you do (or want to) use anything then just use it and give me a mention in the chapter (ooh I'm so into recognition). And give me a link too! I love your story Blast From the Past although my computer's an idiot and I can't review it at the moment.  
  
  
  
  
  
Also there are going to be a few switches between the past and the present in this chapter- I hope it's reality clear which is which- if not just let me know and I'll try to do something about it!  
  
  
  
  
  
'Potter!' I called.  
  
With a sigh I stomped up the stairs.  
  
Why was it I seemed to spend a large percentage of my time trying to work out where Potter was?  
  
'Potter!' I snapped.  
  
'I'm here Draco.'  
  
Funny.his voice sounded like it was coming from above me.  
  
How much higher up did this house go??  
  
'Where's here?'  
  
His head suddenly appeared upside down at the window.  
  
'Fucking hell!' I exclaimed in shock.  
  
He grinned. 'I'm here.'  
  
'Couldn't stand being in the same house as me any longer huh?' I asked lightly.  
  
'I just needed a bit of fresh air.'  
  
Ooh fresh air.  
  
I thought about it wistfully - I hadn't felt fresh air since that last raid before Potter's capture.  
  
'Do you want to come up?' He asked.  
  
Yes.  
  
'I can't.' I said reluctantly between gritted teeth.  
  
Potter's eyes widened with understanding. 'I didn't know you were afraid of heights.'  
  
'I'm not you idiot! Magical force-field meaning I can't even put the tip of my finger out of this house.'  
  
'Oh that.' He said sheepishly.  
  
'Yes Potter-that.'  
  
Why was it I couldn't even sound properly angry now?  
  
'Come here.'  
  
I moved my head forward slightly, wincing as it came into contact with the barrier. 'See.'  
  
He offered me his hand.  
  
I looked at it suspiciously.  
  
'Just take it.'  
  
Hesitantly I took it. His hand was slightly rough under my smooth palm.  
  
'Now try.'  
  
I ducked under the window sill and stood perched on the window ledge.  
  
'AH!!!!'  
  
He yanked me up onto the roof.  
  
I landed with a thud.  
  
'Ouch.'  
  
'Sorry.'  
  
'Why'd that work?'  
  
'Because I wanted it to.' He said simply, smiling at me slightly.  
  
I settled myself on the roof next to him. 'Do you come here often?'  
  
Potter laughed. '"Do you come here often"? What are you hitting on me now?'  
  
'You wish.' I grinned.  
  
He looked sheepishly at the floor and I took a sudden deep breath in.  
  
Moonlight danced across his face and I was suddenly drawn to another time and place.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
'Potter?' I asked in horror as I walked onto the balcony at the top of the Astronomy Tower.  
  
'Malfoy??'  
  
There went my nice peaceful "me" time.  
  
'Go away!' I told him simply, offended by his presence..  
  
'What?' Potter looked outraged. 'I was here first.'  
  
I didn't think he was going to be swayed by "So?"  
  
'Exactly. You've had your time here and now it's my turn.'  
  
'Fuck you Malfoy.' He scowled at me.  
  
I smirked. 'Not on your life Potter.'  
  
Confused, he frowned. 'What-oh!'  
  
I became the subject of a heated glare.  
  
'Shut up Malfoy!'  
  
'My you're so eloquent aren't you?' I rolled my eyes.  
  
Irritation was thinly hidden in his eyes. 'Look Malfoy - I'm not leaving- and if you're not leaving then I suggest you bloody well shut up and leave me alone.'  
  
First sensible suggestion he'd ever made.  
  
'Fine.' I turned and leant on the balcony wall.  
  
After about three minutes I began to feel restless.  
  
Whilst I find silence, when I'm alone, very calming, silence when someone else was present was just dull.  
  
I looked at Potter out of the corner of my eye.  
  
He looked thoughtful and I suddenly felt curious as to why.  
  
'What are you thinking about?'  
  
He turned and looked at me in suspicion. 'Like I'm going to tell you! Amazingly I don't feel the need to have my thoughts broadcasted all over school.'  
  
I frowned. 'I had no intention of telling everybody actually Potter. I was just curious.'  
  
I turned back to staring at the Quidditch fields.  
  
If he didn't want to tell me then I didn't want to know.  
  
There was a small sigh. 'Do you promise that none of this conversation will go any further?'  
  
'Potter,' I said wryly, 'as if I want people knowing I had a conversation with a Gryffindor.'  
  
From the look in his eyes that wasn't good enough.  
  
'Fine.' I sighed. 'Slytherin's honour.' I promised.  
  
'Funny - I didn't know they had any. Potter bit back.  
  
'Ooh Potter meow.'  
  
Despite himself he laughed slightly. 'You really want to know what I'm thinking about?'  
  
'No I was just asking for the hell of it.' My voice oozed with sarcasm.  
  
'You want to know or not?' Potter's eyes narrowed.  
  
I sighed. 'Go ahead.'  
  
'What with the graduation ceremony being next week this could be the last time I ever get to stand here.' Potter murmured. 'I was just thinking it seems so sad.'  
  
'I know what you mean.' I replied softly. 'Soon we're going to be dumped headfirst into real life. Nothing's ever going to be the same again. No houses, no lessons, no Snape to terrify all the Gryffindors-'  
  
'He doesn't terrify us.' Harry interjected.  
  
'Nevertheless.' I sighed. 'It's going to be different. Especially with the war.'  
  
Silence hung over us for a few minutes.  
  
'Which side are you on Malfoy?' Potter asked finally. The question held no malice, simply quiet curiosity.  
  
I sighed, leaning on the balcony wall. 'I think you know the answer to that Potter.'  
  
'I suppose I do.'  
  
The knowledge hung between us and neither of us dared to break the mutual truce by commenting on the obvious.  
  
After the graduation we would be on opposite sides - forget petty childish squabbles- we'd be trying to kill each.  
  
'So I guess this is going to be one of the last times we ever see each other.' Potter said with a strange emotion in his eyes.  
  
'I guess so.'  
  
Wow. Life without Potter.  
  
How weird would that be?  
  
Enjoyable sure.but pretty damn weird.  
  
He laughed slightly. 'Isn't it weird. We've hated each other for 7 years and we decide now is the best time to have a civil conversation.'  
  
'First and last time.' I told him.  
  
'Oh I know.' He assured me.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
'I'm going inside now.' Potter stretched slightly.  
  
'Ok. I'll be in, in a minute.'  
  
'You can't get anywhere else except back in the house- just in case you were thinking bout it.' Potter told me.  
  
'I wasn't going to try.'  
  
'Sure.' He said doubtfully.  
  
He disappeared inside and I took a deep breath in, savouring the fresh air.  
  
The weird part was that I didn't think I would have tried to escape.  
  
I looked up at the sky.  
  
The stars were bright and the moon was full.  
  
Just like that damned night.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
We talked for what felt like an age, about the most random, obscure, petty subjects, both beginning to feel comfortable in the other's presence.  
  
'I don't want to kill you.' He blurted suddenly.  
  
'You don't?' I raised an eyebrow.  
  
'No. Why? Do you want to kill me?' He paused thoughtfully. 'Actually maybe you shouldn't answer that.'  
  
'Afraid of what you might hear Potter?' I smirked slightly.  
  
'Yes.' The honest answer affected me in a way I hadn't thought it could.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Ok that's it.  
  
If being out here was triggering all these bloody memories I was going in.  
  
I swung back inside the house, landing easily on my feet.  
  
I could hear the TV blaring from the living room and trailed down the stairs.  
  
Potter was watching a film and I made my way over to the sofa, sliding onto it beside him.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
And in the second he answered something changed.  
  
There was a type of tension in the air, but not our normal angry tension.  
  
Potter had flushed slightly and was trying as hard as possible to keep his eyes on the floor.  
  
'Potter. . .' I said softly, not knowing what I was trying to say.  
  
Out eyes met and suddenly no words were needed.  
  
The wind blew a lock of hair into his eyes and before I knew what I was doing I gently brushed it behind his ear.  
  
He swallowed nervously and I watched the expressions play in his eyes, transfixed by the sheer emotion in them.  
  
We were close now- so close that I could feel his warm breath caressing my cheek.  
  
It sent shivers down my spine and involuntarily I moved closer to him.  
  
Our gazes met again and I felt butterflies in my stomach.  
  
I took a shaky breath inwards.  
  
Absently I noticed that Potter was moving closer as well.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
'DRACO???' Potter yelled.  
  
I snapped back to attention.  
  
'Huh?'  
  
'I said do you want a cookie?' He offered me the plate.  
  
'Uh sure.' I took a cookie and nibbled on it slightly.  
  
He focused his attention back on the TV and I drifted off into my memories again.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Suddenly something snapped in him and a look of shock and panic appeared in his eyes.  
  
He moved backwards slightly and lost his balance, flailing slightly.  
  
Acting purely on instinct my arm shot out and looped around his waist.  
  
We stood frozen, staring at each other as if for the first time.  
  
'Malfoy.' For once his tone wasn't full of hate or horror but pure longing.  
  
Oh god. What was I doing?  
  
Potter raised his hand to my cheek and gently moved his rough fingertips along the edge of my chin.  
  
'What are you doing?' I whispered weakly, unable to move, to think even to breathe.  
  
Potter shook his head slightly. 'I have no idea.'  
  
And then he kissed me.  
  
Fire coursed through my body and I pulled him closer, wrapping my arms around his waist.  
  
I wanted him.  
  
*Needed* him.  
  
And I knew he was my enemy that I was supposed to want to kill him.  
  
But I didn't care.  
  
If anybody found out then I'd die - literally.  
  
And someone *would* find out.  
  
This was going to get me killed . . .  
  
But what a nice way to go.  
  
He moaned softly and I began to slowly trail kisses down his neck.  
  
I couldn't stop touching him - it felt like my life depended on being in contact with his beautiful flawless skin.  
  
His fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, refusing to move away from my ministrations.  
  
I froze as I heard footsteps.  
  
'Shit.' Potter whispered, pulling away.  
  
Filch.  
  
Damn him.  
  
I looked at Potter one last time, at his flushed cheek and dishevelled clothes and I knew that we had to finish this.  
  
'I'll see you tomorrow.' I whispered breathlessly. 'Same time and place.'  
  
I barely registered his nod before I turned and ran.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
I ran my eyes over his face, watching how it altered as every shadow flickered on it.  
  
~I wonder whether he still kisses the same- oh God don't even go there!~  
  
'Is something wrong?' Potter asked.  
  
I realised I'd been staring at him like a madman for the last ten minutes.  
  
'Wrong? No what could possibly be wrong?' I babbled nervously.  
  
'Are you sure?' He frowned suspiciously. 'You're acting awfully.peculiar.'  
  
I offered him a fake smile. 'Well that's just me isn't it? All peculiar and evil.'  
  
'Are you on something?' His face was incredulous.  
  
'No. Are you?'  
  
'No but I'm beginning to wish I was.'  
  
'Hmm.' A smirk spread across my face. 'I'll be back in a minute.'  
  
During my initial inspection of Potter's house I'd come across a bottle of what had unmistakably been alcohol.  
  
If he wanted to be off his head then I wasn't going to stop him.  
  
In fact I was going to actively encourage him.  
  
~You do realise that considering the fact you're having.less than evil thoughts about him this is probably not the best time to get completely pissed. ~  
  
Don't be stupid, silly voice in my head.  
  
My thoughts about Potter have been and always will be evil.  
  
I crouched down on my knees in front of a remarkably dusty cupboard, flinging open the doors and peering inside.  
  
Where the hell was it??  
  
Ah . . .  
  
I spotted the dusty bottle at the back of the bottom shelf.  
  
I stuck the upper half of my body into the cupboard, wincing at the amount of dust but figuring soon I'd be too drunk to care if it was dirty.  
  
And that's dirty mean literally not figuratively.  
  
Although I was pretty sure that I wouldn't care either way.  
  
Not that I had any intention of being dirty with Potter.  
  
~Oh shut up whilst you're ahead. ~  
  
I walked briskly back to the living room, my long strides helping me speed up.  
  
'There!' I triumphantly showed Potter the bottle full of amber liquid.  
  
'Where the hell was that?' Potter asked in confusion.  
  
I shrugged. 'Random cupboard.'  
  
'Oh.' He frowned. 'I don't remember buying that.'  
  
'Maybe someone bought it for you.' I sighed. 'Does it really matter?'  
  
'I guess not.' He said doubtfully, watching as I sloshed a fair amount of it into a glass and handed it to him.  
  
I took my own glass and raised it to him. 'Cheers.'  
  
He murmured it in reply and took a sip.  
  
A smirk played on my lips.  
  
This was going to be great. . .  
  
I bet Potter was a real idiot when he was drunk.  
  
***  
  
I couldn't stop giggling.  
  
I was rapidly running out of oxygen but I couldn't stop anyway.  
  
'What's so funny?' Potter slurred with a confused expression.  
  
Somehow this seemed to make me laugh even harder.  
  
'I don't get it!' Potter was beginning to sound like a sulky three year old.  
  
Which was usually my trick but hey - I was feeling generous- he could be the sulky three year old for a while.  
  
I felt light and happy, like I was walking on sunshine and dancing in the clouds.  
  
'Are you drunk?' Potter asked with a suspicious pout, his green eyes puzzled.  
  
'No.' I said indignantly.  
  
'Yes you are.'  
  
'No I'm not.'  
  
'Yes you are.'  
  
'No I'm,' what was I talking about??, 'not.'  
  
'Yes you are.'  
  
'No I'm not.' What wasn't I?'  
  
'Yes you - umph!'  
  
My arms slipped around his waist and pulled him on top of me.  
  
The fall from the sofa to my chest was enough to silence him.  
  
'You *smell* drunk.' Potter murmured.  
  
'You can't smell drunk stupid.' I grinned. 'But you can taste drunk.'  
  
'Do I taste drunk?' His pupils had dilated and he was looking at me in a way that could only be described as seductive.  
  
'I guess I'll find out.' I smirked and yanked him towards me.  
  
The second our lips touched the atmosphere changed.  
  
Suddenly it was so unbearably hot and we were a tangle of hands and skin.  
  
'Malfoy.' He gasped, his voice tinged with desire.  
  
'Shut up Potter.'  
  
Our lips met hungrily.  
  
I unbuttoned his shirt and began to kiss his throat.  
  
This felt so right, too right.  
  
His skin was so soft - so smooth and perfect.  
  
I drew my tongue along his collarbone, tasting the slightly salty flavour to his sweat.  
  
He whimpered, whispering my name softly.  
  
My eyes were glazed and I looked at him breathlessly.  
  
His hands gently trailed across my back and I inhaled sharply.  
  
'Potter.' I whimpered.  
  
I was burning up on the inside and the outside and desire was driving me mad.  
  
'Maybe we should move this to the bedroom.' Potter said breathlessly.  
  
That sounded good.  
  
I struggled to my feet, realising it was a mistake even as I did it.  
  
My knees buckled and I was falling . . .  
  
Falling . . .  
  
The world went black.  
  
  
  
  
  
Wow - I'm having trouble looking at the computer screen  
  
I had a small argument with my door and it gave me a black eye. Therefore I now have a really bad headache.  
  
I hope you all enjoyed that chapter - please leave me a review and tell me what you think.  
  
Oh and by the way I should be changing the summary soon but don't let that put you of because it will still be the same story.  
  
Review! 


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks everyone for reviewing!  
  
Fatty - you're totally right about how there should have been some tension. It tells you why there wasn't in this chapter - let's face it nothing is ever easy and simple in the world of Harry Potter  
  
She-Who-Is-Not-To-Be-Psyc - Honestly! There will be some negative consequences I promise. They're just not emerging yet. In answer to your question Draco didn't save Harry because he loved him or even because he liked him. It was just that he'd been such a big part of his life that he couldn't imagine him not being alive. I don't actually have that much free time- I just cut sleeping out of my life. In answer to your other question I'm 16. Ironic really considering I shouldn't even be reading this fic let alone writing it! Keep reviewing!  
  
HironiKoshinha - the door never did say sorry - the bastard! Thankyou for being a faithful reviewer - your reviews really cheer me up!  
  
Wintermoon - I am still writing the sequel . . . kinda. Well at least I am completely intending to keep writin it but this story is sidetracking me!  
  
  
  
  
  
I groaned.  
  
I was sprawled across the floor in the living room, my limbs screaming in protest from the abnormal position they'd been forced into.  
  
I lifted my head and immediately rested my forehead on the ground again.  
  
The small movement had caused nausea to rise in me and I was in serious danger of throwing everything I'd eaten the previous day back up again.  
  
I lay still for a few seconds, finally turning my head slightly and looking longingly at the kitchen and the coffee I knew was in there.  
  
Not that coffee was going to sort this hangover out but it wouldn't do any harm.  
  
Very *very* slowly I crawled over to the sofa and pushed myself to my feet, feeling the world swim slightly before sliding back into focus.  
  
Ok so I'd stood up.but I wasn't sure that I could walk.  
  
Oh well . . . only one way to find out.  
  
Stiffly I took halting steps towards the kitchen, my desire for coffee convincing me not to give up.  
  
~ Just three more steps to go. You can do it. You can do it. ~  
  
I collapsed on a chair, letting my head rest on the table.  
  
Well that sucked.  
  
I'd come all this way for coffee and now the thought of it made me want to throw up.  
  
I groaned slightly.  
  
Oh my head.  
  
My poor *poor* head.  
  
'Potter- what the hell happened last night?' I asked, wincing at the noise I created by speaking.  
  
My voice was croaky and hoarse.  
  
'You got me drunk.' He looked and sounded as bad as I felt.  
  
'Yeah I figured. But what did I do? Did I kill anyone?'  
  
Potter looked at me as if I were crazy. 'Who would you kill? I'm the only person here.'  
  
'And you're very much alive.' I asserted.  
  
'I don't feel like it.'  
  
He didn't really look that alive either.  
  
I pushed that thought aside.  
  
So Potter was still alive.  
  
Then what did I do?  
  
I had the distinct feeling that I'd done something  
  
It was a feeling I was used to - after all I usually had done something.  
  
But this I couldn't quite put my finger on.  
  
I frowned, trying to remember the previous night.  
  
I knew it had definitely involved Potter (doesn't take a genius to work that out).  
  
I looked at him as if just the sight of him would bring everything back and snorted in laughter.  
  
(I found out almost immediately that laughing hurt my head badly but I couldn't stop.)  
  
'What?' Potter snapped wearily.  
  
'You've got.' I took a breath in trying to stop laughing. 'The carpet's imprinted on your face.'  
  
His hands flew to his cheeks, panic crossing his face as he felt the numerous small indents on his face.  
  
'I'll.be back in a minute.' He blurted, racing out of the room (well as quickly as a hungover person could race anyway).  
  
So even Potter wasn't above superficiality and shallowness.  
  
Even though his hair would imply he was.  
  
He was a bit of a mystery really.  
  
I knew he was supposed to be the big hero who was all magnanimous and forgiving but really there should have been some limits.  
  
Nobody, not even Potter, should have been able to lie for me, to protect me from imprisonment and then be nice to me.  
  
To look me in the eye after the things I'd done- to sit next to me and talk to me and cook for me when I'd murdered his friends.  
  
Nobody should have been able to . . . but he had done.  
  
And then there was that whole damn incident with the astronomy tower and me accidentally falling on his lips.  
  
Not that it was that accidental.  
  
Truthfully I honestly hadn't thought about that kiss in years - I'd pretty much forgotten it had ever happened.  
  
Spending time with Voldemort kind of numbs you. He twists you on the inside - takes everything you are and turns it into what he wants to be.  
  
And Death Eaters feel nothing.  
  
He sucks the emotion out of you - deep from within your very being and deep within all your memories.  
  
So whilst I had thought about the kiss every now and again it just seemed.empty.  
  
But last night it had seemed more vivid.more real.  
  
I mean - don't get me wrong- it wasn't like I *cared* or anything, it was just that I could now feel that the atmosphere between the two of us had changed somewhat.  
  
Usually people getting drunk together is a great bonding experience.so I've heard.  
  
I've never actually "bonded" as such.  
  
Potter wandered back in and I looked at him with a frown.  
  
Hmm . . .  
  
That was slightly worrying.  
  
That stupid kiss with Potter was the last thing I'd been thinking about before I got drunk.  
  
And truthfully . . . I was a bit . . . weird when I'm drunk.  
  
'I didn't do anything really stupid last night did I?' I asked Potter.  
  
He looked at me cagily. 'What do you mean?'  
  
I shrugged, trying to be vague. 'You know- anything I'd really regret if I remembered.'  
  
He stood slightly stiffly. 'I don't know.'  
  
'So you don't remember anything either?'  
  
His attempt at seeming casual made him seem anything other than it. 'Bits and pieces.'  
  
'Such as . . . ?' I prompted impatiently.  
  
'Nothing important.'  
  
'So you won't have any problems telling me then.' I smirked triumphantly.  
  
'It honestly doesn't matter.' He said through gritted teeth.  
  
'Yeah well I want to know.'  
  
'How can you possibly want an argument when you're this hung over??' He snapped in exasperation.  
  
Hmm . . . he had a point there.  
  
'Fine.' I sighed. 'But I will find out what happened. And personally I don't see what's so terrible that you can't tell me.'  
  
There was a tense silence in which I pouted.  
  
'You know what.' He said suddenly. 'I have to go into work.'  
  
'At eleven o'clock?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Why?' I said in disbelief.  
  
'Because I have some very important things to do and they need me.'  
  
'Says who?'  
  
'Me!'  
  
'So that Blake guy contacted you?'  
  
'What is this the Spanish Inquisition?'  
  
Ok I really wished he'd stop talking about things I didn't understand.  
  
'It might be.' I replied evasively.  
  
I could probably have known the answer to that if I'd known what it was.  
  
'Look I just feel like going into work that's all.'  
  
'When you're hungover?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'And when you don't even like your job?'  
  
He clenched his jaw. 'Yes.'  
  
That sounded logical.  
  
I shrugged. 'Ok.'  
  
'I'm going to go get ready.' Abruptly he stood up and stalked from the room.  
  
I hesitantly took a sip of my coffee, burning my mouth instantly.  
  
He sure was testy this morning.  
  
I was trying to figure out if I could stomach any food (eventual outcome- no) when Potter walked back into the kitchen.  
  
His face was a sort of ashen grey and there were deep bags under his eyes.  
  
Frankly he looked like shit.  
  
'You look worse if that's possible.'  
  
He looked at me in a sort of numb shock. 'Yeah let's say I remembered a few things about last night I wish I hadn't.'  
  
I smirked. 'Did you pour out some deep dark secrets?'  
  
'I wish.'  
  
I looked at him curiously but didn't press it. 'So you remembered it all pretty quickly. How'd that happen?'  
  
He shrugged slightly. 'Anti-hangover spell.'  
  
I shot out my seat, regretting it as my head swam. 'You can do those?'  
  
He nodded.  
  
'Go on then.'  
  
'Huh?'  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'Cast the spell on me you idiot.'  
  
I liked hangover spells.  
  
If he cast it on me then within the next three minutes my nausea and headache would fade away as would the pain in my stiff limbs.  
  
Not to mention the fact I'd remember everything that happened last night.  
  
'Uhh.no.' He chewed his bottom lip.  
  
'Why?'  
  
'Because.just because.'  
  
I sighed.  
  
'Potter just cast the damn spell on me.'  
  
'You know what,' his voice shook slightly, 'I think it might be better if you got better the natural way.'  
  
Hell no I hated not remembering things.  
  
'Oh come on Potter.'  
  
'No.'  
  
'You cast it on yourself!'  
  
He shrugged. 'Well I'm not casting it on you.'  
  
'That seems a bit sadistic.' I frowned.  
  
He shrugged. 'Well you'd be the one to know about that wouldn't you?'  
  
'You're awfully bitter this morning.' I remarked darkly. 'That's funny considering I'm the one with the killer hangover.'  
  
'Well you probably deserve it.' Potter glared at me.  
  
'Probably.' I agreed darkly. 'But seeing as how I don't remember anything I wouldn't know.'  
  
He hesitated, about to say something but changing his mind. 'I'll be back in a few hours.'  
  
He took a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.  
  
'Potter-'  
  
He was consumed by green flames and I sighed.  
  
Well there went any quick ways to getting my memory of the previous evening back.  
  
Guess I'd have to do it the old fashioned way.  
  
***  
  
This wasn't working.  
  
I chewed my bottom lip.  
  
I'd been sitting in the living room for two hours trying to remember *anything* about the night before.  
  
I sighed . . . well . . .  
  
I'd woken up on the floor so that meant at some point I'd been on the floor.  
  
Maybe if I recreated it . . .  
  
I looked round quickly to check that no-one was watching.  
  
~Cuz there are so many people here to watch you.~  
  
Good point.  
  
Gingerly I lay down on the floor.  
  
Ok this was . . . new.  
  
I strained backwards in my memories.  
  
Giggling.  
  
There had been a lot of giggling.  
  
A smirk appeared on my face.  
  
So Potter giggled huh?  
  
I focused harder, realising with sick horror that I'd been the one giggling.  
  
Giggling.  
  
*Giggling*!!!!!  
  
I'd changed my mind- I didn't want to know anything about the previous night.  
  
In fact, for the sake of my sanity, I was going to pretend it had never happened.  
  
Quickly I got to my feet and switched the TV on quietly.  
  
My head wasn't really up to loud noises.  
  
Sometime around noon my feeling of nausea abated, much to my relief.  
  
I was bored.  
  
Bored out of my skull.  
  
There was nothing to do in this bloody house.  
  
Not to mention the fact that I couldn't vent my annoyance towards Potter for not doing the spell.  
  
I was going to find a way to amuse myself . . .  
  
A very quiet, peaceful way that involved very little movement.  
  
Right on cue a loud ringing pierced my brain.  
  
'Shit!' I swore, covering my ears with my hands.  
  
Unswayed by my swearing the ringing continued.  
  
Where was it coming from??  
  
I had to make it stop.  
  
Desperately I tracked the noise down, finding it coming from an object underneath a coat.  
  
I looked at it with a wrinkled brow, what the hell was it?  
  
It rang again and I suddenly remembered.  
  
Potter had told me about it.  
  
It was a . . . phone.  
  
And what had he said about it "don't even think about answering it even if your life depends on it".  
  
I watched it, hoping that pulling funny faces would distract me from it.  
  
No such luck.  
  
I sighed and moved slightly, looking at the phone from a new angle.  
  
I tapped my fingers impatiently against the sofa- when was the person going to get the hint and stop phoning??  
  
Ok that was it - it was making me feel like someone was driving a spatula into my head- I snatched it up.  
  
'Hello.'  
  
'Hello?' A female voice asked in confusion. 'Who's that?'  
  
I smirked. 'Who's *that*?'  
  
'Hermione.' The voice said cautiously.  
  
Granger.  
  
Figures that no-one else would ring Potter.  
  
'Oh Hermione!' I exclaimed, a plan beginning to form in my mind. 'Harry's told me all about you.'  
  
Oh this was going to be great.  
  
'Oh . . . really?' She asked in surprise.  
  
'Of course. He's never shut up about you and-' Oh it pained me to say it 'Ron since I moved in.'  
  
Ugh- mental note to wash my mouth out with soap later.  
  
'You moved in???' She was starting to sound completely lost and shocked.  
  
'Yes.' I feigned a sort of hurt surprise. 'Didn't Harry tell you?'  
  
'Well . . . uhh . . . I mean . . . of course he . . . so you're his new boyfriend then?'  
  
'New?' I laughed softly. 'Nah we go way back.'  
  
'Oh.' She sounded taken-aback. 'I see.'  
  
'So do you want me to give him a message?'  
  
'Uhmm yeah. Could you tell him that I called and ask him to give me a ring back.'  
  
'Sure I will. It was nice to finally talk to you Hermione.'  
  
'Yeah you too.' She laughed slightly nervously. 'Bye!'  
  
'Bye!'  
  
I put the phone back, laughing slightly.  
  
Ok Potter was going to kill me . . . assuming he didn't die of a heart attack when he found out I was his supposed boyfriend.  
  
But it was so funny.  
  
Who could resist???  
  
***  
  
What felt like a very long time afterwards Potter deigned the house with his presence.  
  
Truthfully after the phone call I'd been so amused I couldn't keep being angry at him so the atmosphere was pretty much back to normal.  
  
It's amazing what avoiding each other for a few hours can do.  
  
During his absence I'd rooted through his bookshelves and had discovered a book that seemed to explain a lot of muggle artefacts.  
  
Now I was fed up of being left in the dark so I'd decided that I was damn well going to read it no matter how hard it was.  
  
And it was pretty hard.  
  
I didn't know who was struggling more - me with my electrons and fuses and crap or Potter with his map of supposed Death Eater bases.  
  
But me, being me, was loath to admit that I was struggling.  
  
Potter threw down his pen in frustration and I took a welcome break from the book to uncover what his problems was this time.  
  
'Jesus Draco - do these have any pattern whatsoever?'  
  
I looked at him lazily. 'Yes.'  
  
'What?' He asked, frustrated.  
  
A smirk crossed my face. 'Now that would be telling.'  
  
'I'll give you a cookie.'  
  
'Gee well when you put it like that.' I said in fake happiness.  
  
'Point taken.' He said reluctantly.  
  
I rolled my eyes and continued reading, my brow furrowed in confusion as I tried to understand what the hell this book was going on about.  
  
He sighed.  
  
'How about two?'  
  
'Sod off Potter.' My tone held no malice, only mild amusement.  
  
I was really losing my touch.  
  
'Well will you just help me a bit?'  
  
I considered it. 'Four cookies.'  
  
'Deal.' He said quickly.  
  
I stood up and walked over to the table.  
  
'Ok let's see.'  
  
I peered over his shoulder.  
  
I sighed. 'Potter we talked about the likeliness of me having my bases in places with stupid names.'  
  
I pointed out his most recent idiotic guess.  
  
'I suppose.' He muttered.  
  
'Just think like me.' I shrugged. 'It may scar you for life but it'll help.'  
  
'Yeah.' His voice was quieter than usual  
  
'You ok?' I straightened up, brushing his shoulder accidentally with my hand.  
  
'Mm-huh.' His assent wavered slightly.  
  
I squinted - was he blushing???  
  
Knowledge hit me like a train.  
  
'Potter.' I tried to keep the amusement out of my voice.  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
You don't happen to have any fantasies about fucking me on your kitchen floor do you?  
  
'Do you . . . like me?'  
  
There was deathly silence.  
  
He cleared his throat. 'Sorry?'  
  
'Do you like me?' I repeated, feeling laughter bubble up inside me.  
  
A slight pause.  
  
'Do you mean do I like you or do I *like* you?'  
  
'What do you think I meant?' I teased, a smirk playing on my face.  
  
'Uhh . . . '  
  
'So is that a yes then?'  
  
'What? No!' He exclaimed.  
  
'Well I wouldn't blame you - I am gorgeous after all.' I drawled.  
  
'Draco!' He exclaimed, astounded by my arrogance.  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'So do you?'  
  
He gaped at me. 'No - of course I don't! I mean you're all . . . and I'm . . . and it would . . . ' He gave up. 'No.'  
  
Funny . . . for a no that sounded quite a bit like a yes.  
  
I settled back on the sofa with a smirk.  
  
So Potter had a crush on me.  
  
This was going to be so much fun.  
  
He had inadvertently given me the means to drive him absolutely mad. And I wouldn't even really have to try.  
  
I mean - I had to get him back somehow for destroying my life right?  
  
And though normally that would involve a lot of pain and bloodshed . . . I had the feeling that this may be even better.  
  
'I'm just going to have a shower.' I told Potter.  
  
He kept his eyes very firmly fixed on the map, ignoring the flush on his cheeks.  
  
'Ok.'  
  
I left the room with a small swagger to my stride. It was nice to know that my looks still had an effect- even if it was only on Potter.  
  
Halfway up the stairs a green flash of light spilled out of the living room.  
  
I paused.  
  
Who'd floo in when there was a wanted criminal staying here?  
  
'Hermione!' Potter's voice exclaimed. 'What are you doing here?'  
  
My eyes widened.  
  
I didn't actually think she'd come to see who I was.  
  
Shit.  
  
This was either going to be spectacularly brilliant or spectacularly horrific.  
  
'Do we need an excuse to come round and see our best friend?' A deeper voice replied.  
  
Oh God - Weasley too!  
  
This was too much to resist.  
  
Time to put plan "embarrass Potter to death" into action.  
  
'Are you by yourself or,' Granger peered round, 'is someone with you?'  
  
That would be my cue.  
  
'Harry where did you put the towels?' I bounced into my room. 'Oh.' I stopped. 'Sorry I didn't know anyone else was here.'  
  
I didn't think I'd actually ever said sorry before.  
  
If the expressions on Weasley's and Granger's faces weren't quite so funny then it would have been an extremely traumatic moment.  
  
'Malfoy?' Weasley gasped.  
  
Potter's face drained of colour.  
  
'Harry why's Malfoy in your house?' Weasley looked desperately to Potter.  
  
'He's . . . uhh . . . staying with me for a bit.' He scuffed the carpet with his foot.  
  
Ooh bad thing to say.  
  
Weasley began to turn purple - a colour that clashed very badly with his red hair.  
  
'He's your new boyfriend!?'  
  
'What?' Potter turned to me with an outraged expression. 'You told them that?'  
  
'Was it meant to be a secret?' I hid my smirk beneath an ashamed look.  
  
He gaped at me.  
  
'I don't get it.' Weasley spun on Potter. 'I thought he was a Death Eater.'  
  
'I am.' I shoved my sleeve up lazily.  
  
'Harry are you mad?'  
  
'Debateable.' I muttered.  
  
Granger shot me a look but carried on. 'How could you be so stupid as to let some god-forsaken Death Eater stay here! He'll kill you as soon as your back is turned!'  
  
Well if that's what she wanted to choose to believe then that was fine with me. I wasn't going to correct her.  
  
Potter shifted his weight uncomfortably. 'I know he's an evil arsehole but- '  
  
'Hey!' I exclaimed indignantly.  
  
Weasley rolled his eyes. 'Like it's not true.'  
  
Ok it *was* true but I wasn't going to tell him that.  
  
'I'll have you know I killed Voldemort.' I said smugly.  
  
'That was true?' Granger exclaimed.  
  
'Yes that was true! God! Wizards are a skeptical bunch aren't they!'  
  
Granger ignored me and turned back to Potter. 'Does that mean he was a spy all along?'  
  
'Yeah Harry does that mean I was a spy all along?' I chirped, unable to stop now I'd started.  
  
'You're in enough trouble.' Potter told me dangerously. 'Shut up.'  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'Oh I'm scared. But you know,' my eyes began to sparkle, 'you weren't telling me to shut up last night.'  
  
Well for all I knew that was true.  
  
'Draco!' Potter exclaimed.  
  
'It's Draco now?' Weasley said in shock. 'God I guess you really are shagging him.'  
  
'Shagging him???' Potter's eyes boggled.  
  
'Can we focus here people?!' Granger shouted at the top of her lungs.  
  
We all fell silent.  
  
'Thankyou!' She turned to Harry. 'Was Malfoy a spy?' she repeated calmly.  
  
'Uhh . . . ' Harry looked shifty. 'Yeah?'  
  
I groaned. 'If you're going to lie that badly you might as well just tell them the truth.'  
  
'What truth?'  
  
'That Harry and I are madly in love with each other and have been doing nothing but shagging for the last two weeks.' I deadpanned.  
  
There was stunned silence.  
  
Geez I didn't know they were going to take me seriously.  
  
'Can you please just stop it?' Potter whispered.  
  
I jerked in surprise, there was a broken look in his eyes.  
  
Despite my inner death eater jumping up and down chanting "squash the little Potter man while he's down!" I faltered.  
  
'Ok.'  
  
Weasley and Granger both blinked.  
  
'What?' I snapped. 'You're the only ones allowed to have any sense of decency.'  
  
Harry sent me another petitioning look.  
  
To my horror I actually felt the urge to apologise and shut my mouth as quickly as possible so that I couldn't.  
  
Moodily I sat down and watched the argument play out.  
  
To think I'd caused all this.  
  
I waited for the glow of satisfaction to appear.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
I frowned.  
  
'So Malfoy's not a spy?' Granger said slowly.  
  
Hello??? Glow of satisfaction??  
  
I'm still waiting!  
  
'Well,' Potter chewed his bottom lip, 'that all depends.'  
  
'On what?'  
  
'On who you talk to.'  
  
Granger's face darkened. 'Harry please do not tell me that you *lied* to the Minister of Magic.'  
  
She always had been reasonably intelligent.  
  
Potter looked at the floor.  
  
'Are you out of your mind?' the Weasel asked frankly.  
  
'What possessed you?' Granger squawked.  
  
They were slowly beating him to the ground with their words and I watched as he visibly shrank.  
  
'I-' Potter started.  
  
'Do you know what'll happen if someone finds out?'  
  
Come on Potter - fight back.  
  
His face had become despondent.  
  
'Do you know how much you're risking for him?' I was pointed at.  
  
Oh this was ridiculous.  
  
'If I could just point out that Potter actually owed me a wizard's debt.'  
  
'Shut up!' Weasley and Granger both snapped.  
  
Potter's eyes showed relief as he finally remembered why he'd lied.  
  
'He's right.' Potter commented. 'He saved my life-I couldn't exactly let him got to Azkabhan.'  
  
'Why not?' Weasley asked.  
  
'Ron!' Potter snapped.  
  
'Sorry Harry but I really don't see why not- ok he saved your life but he's killed so many people!'  
  
'Ron-' Potter repeated, his voice becoming uncomfortable.  
  
Weasley sighed. 'It's ok Harry - you don't need to keep "Ronning" me.'  
  
'But Harry,' Granger interjected, 'we really have to talk about-'  
  
'Do we have to talk about this with him here?' Weasley interjected, sending me a suspicious look. 'Can't he go to another room?'  
  
Potter shrugged. 'If you want him to- but knowing him he'll find a way to listen away. At least if he's here you won't get lulled into a sense of false security and say something you really shouldn't.'  
  
'Hmmm.' Weasley said doubtfully.  
  
There was an awkward pause.  
  
'Sooo . . . ' Potter stuck his hands in his pockets.  
  
'We probably better be going.' Granger said suddenly. 'We're supposed to be going out to dinner - we were going to ask you and your. . . uhh.' She looked at me. 'But maybe that's not such a great idea.'  
  
'To put it lightly.' Weasley muttered.  
  
'Call me, ok?' Granger embraced Potter.  
  
He nodded slightly.  
  
'I just want you to know that I think this is a really bad idea.' Granger told Potter softly. 'But I trust your judgement and . . . well . . . you're not dead yet so maybe you stand a chance.'  
  
He smiled slightly. 'Thanks for that astounding vote of confidence Mione.'  
  
'I still think you're crazy.' Weasley interrupted. 'And I think you're wrong and you shouldn't be doing this.'  
  
'Ron.'  
  
'Save it.' He took a handful of Floo powder. 'I'll see you later.'  
  
And with a flash he disappeared.  
  
Granger sent him a sympathetic look. 'He'll calm down eventually.'  
  
'I know.' Potter muttered dejectedly.  
  
'Bye.' She smiled at him before floo-ing out.  
  
He stood dejectedly, staring at the fireplace.  
  
I saw my chance for escape.  
  
I cleared my throat nervously. 'Right I'll just be-' I edged towards the door.  
  
'You're not going *anywhere*.' Potter seethed, rounding on me.  
  
'I can't believe you did that!' He hissed, anger evident in his tone.  
  
'Oh relax Potter it was just a bit of fun.'  
  
'Fun? Fun! You call that *FUN*???'  
  
Well yes actually.  
  
I shifted my weight. 'Well . . . '  
  
'How could you do that? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was??'  
  
I had a few ideas.  
  
'And do you know how much danger you put us both in? If anyone finds out that you're staying here then there'll be attacks left right and centre!'  
  
'Well they're not going to tell anyone are they?'  
  
'That's not the point!! Nobody was supposed to know that you weren't a spy!'  
  
'You're the one who told them. You could have just lied.'  
  
'I couldn't! I'm useless at lying to them! Minister of Magic- piece of cake. Lying to my friends - total nightmare.' His face darkened. 'And stop trying to excuse it! What you did was totally out of line.'  
  
Wow he was taking this really seriously.  
  
'Oh fine.' I sighed slightly. 'I'm sorry. There.'  
  
Potter was looking at me as if I was crazy. 'You think that that's going to make it all ok?'  
  
'Potter I've only actually ever really used those words to Voldemort so it's kind of a big deal for me. I've apologised- now you forgive me and we go back to taking the piss out of each other.' I explained.  
  
'It doesn't work like that.' Potter snapped. 'You can't just apologise - you have to mean it.'  
  
No one had ever mentioned that part.  
  
'And I'm still mad at you.' Potter clarified.  
  
'You're taking this far too seriously.' I told him.  
  
~Have you *got* a death wish or something??? ~  
  
'Am I?' His eyes flashed dangerously.  
  
He took a step forward and despite myself I took a step backwards.  
  
'I lied to the Minister of Magic for you. I told the Head Auror that you were a spy. I put my life on the line to save you from going to Azkabhan. I convinced Dumbledore not to turn you in- I let you into my home and treat you like a guest and what do you do in return??' He ran his fingers through his hair. 'You are the most ungrateful person I've ever had the misfortune to meet!'  
  
Wow that hurt.  
  
It seriously did.  
  
I'd never admit it but it did.  
  
And being me there was only one way to deal with that.  
  
'And who asked you to do all that?' I exclaimed. 'Who asked you to turn my life upside down?? You have no right to preach to me - they were your fucking decisions *not mine*.'  
  
He stared at me, dumbstruck.  
  
Ok. I realised that I probably shouldn't have said that. Whilst that had been my view a month or so ago- it wasn't now.  
  
'You are such an insufferable bastard.' His voice was hard.  
  
'I always have been and you know that.' I snapped back. 'What's changed??'  
  
His jaw clenched. 'Obviously not you.'  
  
There was something in his tone that made me feel like I'd been kicked in the gut and I stopped, looking at him with something akin to distress.  
  
He spun on his heel and walked away, leaving me staring helplessly after him.  
  
  
  
  
  
Ok I know everybody will want to kill me for making him forget it all but to be honest I hadn't planned for the whole kissing thing to happen.  
  
I hadn't even wanted them to get drunk but suddenly they were there, blind drunk, kissing on the living room floor so I figured - let them have their fun.  
  
Updates are gonna be a bit infrequent for the next couple of weeks cuz I'm nose deep in exams that I don't know any of the stuff for.  
  
Thanks for reading this chapter.  
  
Leave me a review and tell me what you think. 


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Ok quite frankly this chapter has been the singular hardest to write in any story. I've been struggling with it for ages. And with my exams I've not had that much time to work on it. But I've finally (FINALLY!!!) finished it. Thankyou everybody who reviewed the last chapter and everybody who is bearing with me enough to be reading this. I love you all to pieces!!! This chapter jumps around a bit. The bits in the ~'s and the ** 's are Draco's inner thoughts. And there's a section that's set in the past so just be aware of that.  
  
  
  
Corinthian- All will be revealed with Harry's mood swings in time. It's kinda hard to get it in as its all from Draco's POV. Him getting wound up wasn't so much with the fact that Draco wound him up in front of his friends but more to do with what Draco said.  
  
Katzchen - I totally know what you mean about wanting to write when you have exams! It was all I could think about when I was revising. Thanks for having nothing bad to say!  
  
Triton Bloom - Lol I'm glad you enjoyed it. And if you are after angst then there will be more of that on the way!!  
  
Jitterbug - Damn! I totally forgot Dean Thomas was from a muggle family! Thanks for pointing it out I will get round to changing it eventually. I'm glad you found the whole "Upper Ramsbottom" bit funny - I did! You're right about Draco being bothered subconsciously as you will find out in this chapter.  
  
Wintermoon - I know . . . I just can't get them to behave themselves and do what I want them to. The Harry Ron Hermione and Draco bit was my fave part too.  
  
NayNamic - Uhmmm the whole " bonded" thing may be a phrase just used where I live. Bonding basically just means two people getting close by hanging out together. I think . . .  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well honestly - who would have thought that the Boy-Who-Lived was so sensitive??  
  
We'd spent the last few days in an uncomfortable silence in which he shot me glares every couple of seconds.  
  
It was beginning to drive me mad really- why couldn't he just hex me and get it over with?  
  
Then again he was far too noble to do that wasn't he? It wouldn't be right for the Golden Boy to actually get mad at somebody.  
  
I really didn't understand why he was taking it so badly.  
  
I mean, ok he had a crush on me, but surely that would mean that he'd enjoy me pretending to be his boyfriend??  
  
**Oh I give up. Potter is the singular most complicated person I've ever met, and considering I've spent the last five years of my life with a psychotic schizophrenic who was determined to wipe out a race that he belonged to - that is really saying something. **  
  
Why did I get stuck living with *him*??  
  
With a sigh I turned over, beginning to feel bored.  
  
Not arguing with Potter may be bad.but not speaking to him is even worse.  
  
All my life I've always had some sort of manipulative evil plot to be planning or some people to kill- I'd never had the problem of not having anyone to talk to.  
  
I guess this was one of the cons of being on the losing side.  
  
And all those lucky bastards who got to go to Azkabhan didn't know what they had. At least there it wasn't Harry Potter and boredom that made you go insane.  
  
I yawned, sleep finally approaching.  
  
**Stupid twat. ** - was my last thought before sleep claimed me.  
  
***  
  
The feel of someone's eyes on me cut through my dreams and snapped me to wakefulness.  
  
Automatically I searched for a wand that I hadn't had for a long time.  
  
'Calm down! It's only me.' Potter's voice appeared from the darkness.  
  
My heart was beating slightly more quickly and I felt more on guard than I had done in a long time.  
  
'What are you doing in here?' I snapped, shock making my tone harsh.  
  
He stared at me silently.  
  
My eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness and I picked out his features.  
  
'Well?' I prompted, wanting to remind him that he was supposed to be mad at me but also hoping that he wouldn't remember at the same time.  
  
'I overreacted.' He said simply.  
  
I frowned, looking at him searchingly.  
  
There was something in his eyes that seemed dark- as if apologising was hurting him in a way I couldn't even fathom.  
  
Truthfully I couldn't even work out why he was apologising to begin with.  
  
He hadn't overreacted in the slightest- if someone had done that to me they'd be dead before they had time to blink.  
  
But then again . . . in my experience people died whether they'd done something or not.  
  
I sighed. 'No you didn't.'  
  
Where did that come from?  
  
'I did. It was a joke and I took it far too seriously. I'm sorry.'  
  
This was getting weird.  
  
Potter really had changed. The boy I'd known would never have apologised to me- even when whatever had happened was blatantly his fault.  
  
I shifted slightly, the quilt only half covering me.  
  
'I don't like fighting with you.' He said softly.  
  
Ok that was it.  
  
'Who are you and what have you done with Potter?' I asked suspiciously.  
  
He grinned and suddenly all the tension of the past few days evaporated and whatever unidentifiable look had been his eyes disappeared with it.  
  
'I'm glad you asked,' he said wryly. 'It's nice to know you care.'  
  
'Oh I don't.' I informed him breezily. 'I'm just wondering if you're some sort of evil being who will join forces with me and take over the world,' a pause, 'or at the very least let me out of this bloody house.'  
  
He laughed. 'Do you really hate it here that much?'  
  
No.  
  
The realisation made my breath catch in my breath.  
  
No I didn't hate it here at all.  
  
I raised my eyebrows. 'Hmm let's see, trapped in a small Muggle house with bad food and only the Boy-who-Lived as company. What's not to love?'  
  
'Methinks the lady doth protest too much.'  
  
'I'm not a lady you asshole.'  
  
'True.' He considered it. 'With language like that you couldn't be classed as a lady . . . more like a common washerwoman.'  
  
Although heated, my glare was lacking some of its bite.  
  
'And what would you know about nobles Potter? From what I've seen you have the decorum of a hippogriff.'  
  
His eyes twinkled with amusement. 'Well you've been my rival for the last eleven years - I have picked up a few things in that time.'  
  
'Eleven years?' I frowned in contemplation. 'Has it really been that long?'  
  
He nodded slightly.  
  
'That's incredible. It doesn't seem like three minutes since you fell off your broom because you were so afraid of me.'  
  
'And it feels like even less time since you got turned into a ferret and scampered down the corridor.' Potter cooed.  
  
My face darkened. 'You know you're just jealous.'  
  
'Of what? Your incredible ability to be a ferret?'  
  
'No- the fact that I had anybody I wanted at school and you spent all your time moping after some girl who wouldn't even look at you twice.' I sniffed.  
  
'Show's what you know - there was a Harry Potter fan club.' He informed me.  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'Yeah but did you ever actually ever get any from any of the members?'  
  
He hesitated. 'Well.no but.'  
  
'I rest my case.' I proclaimed with a smug smile.  
  
In the silence I realised something.  
  
'Besides there was a Draco Malfoy fan club as well.' I said indignantly, not wanting Potter to think he'd been better than me.  
  
'I know - I was a member.'  
  
I blinked, his tone making it unclear whether he was joking or not. 'You're not like most people are you Potter?'  
  
A smile. 'Neither are you.'  
  
I could feel his body against mine and I felt a sudden flash of panic.  
  
Had we started out this close???  
  
I rolled slightly to my right and drew up short when I came within centimetres of Potter.  
  
Wow he was closer than I thought.  
  
I heard his sudden intake of breath as he realised my proximity.  
  
And we were frozen in time, unable to move either closer or further away.  
  
I swallowed slightly- what the hell was going on with me?  
  
I was not thinking about how soft Potter's lips looked or how his eyes almost seemed to hold an invitation for me to find out exactly how soft they were.  
  
Instinctively I leant forward, uncertainty and doubt churning in me.  
  
'OWWWWW!!!' He screeched suddenly as Crucio leapt onto him.  
  
There was a crash as he fell to the floor.  
  
I tried not to snicker. 'Are you alright?'  
  
Crucio flicked his tail in a self-satisfied way and trotted from the room.  
  
I peered over the side of the bed.  
  
'I guess.' Potter winced as he dragged himself to his feet. 'That bloody cat.'  
  
'Yeah.' I echoed.  
  
And the atmosphere suddenly lost its triviality and became tense.  
  
'I should probably . . .' he gestured to the door.  
  
'Yeah.' I agreed reluctantly.  
  
'Ok . . . well . . . I'll see you?'  
  
'Couldn't avoid me if you tried.' I smirked.  
  
He nodded slowly and made his way to the door.  
  
'Potter?'  
  
What was I doing?  
  
He stopped immediately.  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'You don't have to go.' I realised how that sounded. 'I mean you can stay.'  
  
Did that sound worse???  
  
'If you want.' I added as an afterthought. 'But you only get the right hand side of the bed.'  
  
'I'll bear that in mind.' Hesitantly he crossed back over to the bed and gingerly sat on it.  
  
'It's not going to explode you idiot.' I told him.  
  
He glared at me. 'I know.'  
  
Almost defiantly he swung his legs onto the bed and lay down.  
  
'Do you snore?' I asked quietly.  
  
He laughed softly. 'I don't know.'  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'It's been a long time since there's been anyone to tell me if I did.'  
  
'Oh.'  
  
'Do you?' He asked.  
  
'I don't know.' I answered with a small smirk.  
  
'Why not?' He echoed my earlier question.  
  
'Because anybody I've given the chance to find out has been to afraid to mention it either way.'  
  
He grinned. 'You don't scare *me*.'  
  
'Well I guess you can tell me then can't you?' I countered.  
  
'Ok.' He agreed.  
  
Sleep was creeping up on me, for the first time in a long while I was relaxed. Not that it had anything to do with Potter but I felt none of my usual restlessness and tautness.  
  
Ok who was I kidding? It had a hell of a lot to do with Potter. But not because it was Potter - just because there was another person with me.  
  
His rhythmic breathing soothed me and the heat his body gave off eased the need I felt to remain guarded.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
'Yeah?' I murmured sleepily.  
  
'What happened to your father?'  
  
I froze, waking up instantly.  
  
'My father???' I sat up, looking at Potter in shock.  
  
'Uhh yeah. You know, tall man, long hair, terrifying as hell.' Potter summarised briefly.  
  
My heart was beating quickly in my chest. It had been three years since anyone had mentioned my father to me.  
  
The last person who had inquired about him was currently recovering in a coffin eight feet under the ground.  
  
'Draco?' He raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
I inhaled shallowly.  
  
'He's dead.' I said shortly, my tone warning him to stop there.'  
  
But Potter, being a typical Gryffindor and infused with all that bravery and shit, kept pressing.  
  
'How did it happen?'  
  
'By dying Potter! That's what one usually does to become dead.' Angry as I was I could tell my tone had reverted to the frosty hardness it had always contained before this whole incident.  
  
'Well yeah but-'  
  
'Oh shut up! Do I go around asking you questions about your dead parents? No I damn well don't so take a hint from that and shut your fucking mouth ok?'  
  
Startled Potter instantly became silent.  
  
'Fuck!' I swore, reinforcing my outrage at his question.  
  
My heart was thudding loudly in my chest.  
  
'I'm sorry I didn't mean to-' Potter cut off, unsure of what he'd done. 'Where are you going?'  
  
'To watch some TV.' I answered shortly.  
  
'Draco it's three in the morning!'  
  
'So?' I grabbed a blanket off the chair and stormed towards the door.  
  
Potter stared after me with a mixture of hurt and bewilderment.  
  
I slammed the door behind me.  
  
~You know, that was your room~  
  
**It's his house**  
  
~So? ~  
  
**So if we were working by the principle of you only stay somewhere that's yours I should go and sleep in a dustbin. **  
  
~Don't work by that principle then. ~  
  
I groaned.  
  
Since when had I started having arguments with myself???  
  
~ Since you decided to develop a conscience ~  
  
I grimaced - I did not have a conscience. Never had done and never would do.  
  
~You really do live in that little place called denial don't you? What with the "I don't have a conscience", "I'm evil" and of course the priceless "I don't fancy Potter"-~  
  
**I DO NOT FANCY POTTER. **  
  
~See? ~  
  
Briefly I wondered whether I could shut my inner voice up if I beat my head into a bloody pulp with a plank of wood.  
  
~You wouldn't - you'd just damage your face and that's actually the only thing you've got going for you now. ~  
  
I chucked the blanket onto the sofa, sliding onto the sofa and hunching up slightly to fit on it.  
  
I hated sofas.  
  
~You could always go and sleep with Potter if you're that bothered. ~  
  
**You know- if I had a wand I'd blast you out of my head so quickly you wouldn't be able to make a squeak. **  
  
~Well you don't so don't bother torturing yourself. ~  
  
My eyes narrowing I forced my eyes shut, refusing to open them again until it was morning.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I walked along a long dark corridor, my feet making no sound on the wooden floor. My father had interrupted my planning with a summons. I didn't want to see the bloody man but, as he was my superior, I would be totally fucked if I didn't show.  
  
I pushed open a mahogany door, a small rebellious part of me refusing the customary knock.  
  
I was met with my father's icy, disapproving eyes.  
  
'What kept you?' He asked irritably.  
  
'My apologies father.' I answered smoothly.  
  
'Where are the plans for the raid?' He snapped.  
  
'On my desk, ready to be carried out.'  
  
'I haven't approved them yet. You will do nothing without consulting me first.'  
  
'I was under the impression that our Lord put *me*in charge of this raid.' Defensiveness tinged my tone.  
  
'Our Lord gave you this as a test.' My father snapped. 'No son of mine will fail a test as important as this. And you may just do that if you don't get your act together.'  
  
'On the contrary father - I think you will find I have everything under control.' I smirked slightly. '*Everything*' I stressed.  
  
'You better- if you screw this up then-'His eyes landed on my wand, which was by now pointing levelly at his heart.  
  
'Then what father? Please do tell me- I'm always looking for new ideas. Who knows- maybe you'll even get to feel it firsthand. Won't that be a novelty?' A fake smile was pasted to my face.  
  
'Draco please don't take this in the wrong way,' his voice dripped with icy sarcasm, 'but it's doubtful you'd even be able to cast any of the spells in the first place.'  
  
My lips curved into an icy smile. 'Determined as you may be to convince yourself I'm useless, even you have to admit I do know one spell very well. I'll give you a little hint- begins with "A" ends with "vada Kedavra".'  
  
'You wouldn't dare.' He sneered.  
  
I shrugged. 'Survival of the fittest father.'  
  
'The fittest?' He looked at me distastefully. 'You should have been drowned at birth.'  
  
I acknowledged his comment with a small raising of my eyebrow. 'I can see why you'd feel that way father, but *someone* has to carry on the Malfoy name, even if it is someone as unworthy as myself.'  
  
'You're a disgrace to the name of Malfoy.' He hissed.  
  
'I think you and I have very different ideas of what disgraces the name Malfoy. But what I'm planning shouldn't dissatisfy either of our ideas.'  
  
His jaw convulsed. 'Our Lord will kill you for this insubordination.' He spat.  
  
I took in his jutted out chin, his arms crossed across his chest defiantly and did the only thing one could do under circumstances such as these.  
  
I began to laugh.  
  
He frowned, looking as confused and on guard as one would be with an enemy whose motives they could not understand.  
  
'You don't seem to understand father.' I took a step closer, feeling a small flicker of satisfaction as he backed away. 'Lord Voldemort is fully aware of my plans.'  
  
Shock flickered on his face before the usual mask that befitted a Malfoy dropped back down.  
  
'You little.' He struggled to find words.  
  
'Now now father- there's no need to get testy.'  
  
'How dare you defy me in this way?' He snapped.  
  
I pasted an expression of puzzled innocence on my face. 'I don't understand father - I'm doing what you always wanted me to. Taking what I want and not letting *anyone* stand in my way.'  
  
'Draco . . .' He searched for the words that would appeal to my better side- I don't know why he bothered . . . there weren't any. 'I'm your father.'  
  
He said it as though it excused everything- as if it made a difference.  
  
I snorted with laughter. 'That's it? That's your big comeback?? "I'm your father"? Sometimes I wonder how you even stayed alive this long.'  
  
He swallowed, fear appearing in his eyes.  
  
'But no,' I continued, 'surely you're right. I couldn't kill my father could I? I couldn't kill the man who brought me up and looked after me and loved me.' I paused. 'But you never did any of those things did you?'  
  
Dull despair was setting in on his features and his eyes showed how he was desperately racking his brains for how to stop me.  
  
'The truth is father,' I stepped closer so that we were inches apart and I could feel the fear radiating off him, 'You're already dead to me.' I whispered.  
  
His eyes widened and his mouth opened silently . . .  
  
'Avada Kedavra'  
  
. . . whatever words he had been about to utter were lost in the air as his body crumpled soundlessly to the ground.  
  
Impassively I stared at him, his features already motionless and cold.  
  
But no more cold than they had been in life.  
  
I had told him I was very good at that spell - and I would never lie to my father.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I sat up, my breath coming out in short bursts.  
  
My limbs were screaming from the cramped position I'd lain in but I didn't care. I relished the pain that told me that I was awake and free from my memories.  
  
But not free from the pain- not free from this horrid feeling that lay in the pit of my stomach.  
  
I'd killed my father.  
  
I always knew I had done- to at least some degree anyway but I never actually gave it much thought.  
  
I barely remembered it.  
  
How the hell do you forget killing your father???  
  
It wasn't exactly one of my usual activities- or at least it wasn't something I usually did to my own father.  
  
Surely I couldn't have just forgotten it??  
  
Then again Voldemort was a Legilimencer.  
  
Nobody knew the true power of his skill better than me. I'd seen him torment people time and time again without raising a finger. I'd seen him break heroes without having to cast a spell.  
  
He could enter their heads and twist every single one of their memories- make them feel that everything they believed was a lie, made them believe that they had no reason to live.  
  
As distasteful as I had found it, it had always been supremely useful. But I had never thought that he would do it to me.  
  
I thought of my father's frozen features and anger coursed through me.  
  
You couldn't just take away memories like that.  
  
You just shouldn't damn well do it - it was wrong.  
  
And coming from me that was saying a lot.  
  
'Morning.' Potter's hesitant voice shocked me so much I almost fell off the sofa.  
  
And we're talking really almost.  
  
'Morning.' I replied icily,  
  
'How are you doing?'  
  
'Fine.' I said shortly.  
  
'Do you want some breakfast?'  
  
I shrugged.  
  
He chewed his bottom lip and hesitantly walked over to the kitchen.  
  
I followed him, glaring at his back.  
  
~Well for you that was almost cordial. Where's all the hatred and scorn? You're really starting to slip. It's almost enough to make someone think you're not evil anymore. ~  
  
I frowned- I was still damn well evil.  
  
~So that explains why you let that old coot send you to live with Potter - even better I guess that's why you haven't tried to escape once, have caused no damage and have been fucking *flirting* with your worst enemy. ~  
  
**I have never flirted with Potter **  
  
~Oh so that's the bit of the sentence you choose to pick up on ~  
  
This little voice in the back of my head was not helping my confusion.  
  
~Face it - you've gone soft. Dreaming about your dead parents and Potter - you'll be crying on his shoulder next. ~  
  
I stiffened - I hadn't cried in the last seven years and I had no intention of doing it now.  
  
~Well you're heading that way ~  
  
** Honestly! What are you expecting me to do? Kill Potter???!**  
  
~ . . . ~  
  
**No way - no fucking way. **  
  
~Oh yeah - you're so evil. ~  
  
**Oh shut up. **  
  
~You can't shut yourself up ~  
  
** I can damn well try **  
  
~You really have a habit of stopping people from saying things you really need to hear. You couldn't deal with what your father had to say and so you killed him. ~  
  
**You're talking a load of crap. **  
  
~You just don't want to hear it. ~  
  
**Why won't you just bloody piss off? How did you even get here anyway? **  
  
~Well that's simple - Potter. I'm only here because of him. The only reason you're feeling any of this is because of him. ~  
  
Disturbed I switched back to listen to whatever Potter was saying.  
  
'And so I really think that the cheese company should reconsider the way they-'  
  
What the hell was he talking about??  
  
A surge of hatred welled up in me.  
  
This was his fault.  
  
All of this was his fault.  
  
He'd reduced me to this.  
  
It was because of him that the world wasn't mine. It was because of him that Voldemort was dead. It was because of him that I remembered killing the only person whose view had ever mattered to me.  
  
It was all because of him.  
  
And looking at him chattering happily away I felt a surge of hatred.  
  
What had he done to deserve being so happy?  
  
Ok so he'd accidentally offed Voldemort a few times- big deal! I could do that in my sleep.  
  
But everybody accepted him, worshiped him- told him how wonderful he was and how much they loved him.  
  
And I got civility from people at the best of times.  
  
No matter what he did people would still love him. Even if he really had been shacked up with me Granger and Weasley would have forgiven him and blamed it all on me somehow.  
  
Because how could Harry Potter be less than perfect?  
  
And how could Draco Malfoy be anything other than evil?  
  
Let's face it- it's not like anybody from this side tried to excuse my actions in any way. Nobody gave me a second chance- nobody wanted to know why I'd done the things I'd done.  
  
Everybody had just judged me.  
  
I'd thrown everything away and still was labelled the "evil arsehole" or of course the "godforsaken Death-Eater."  
  
Nobody gave a damn about me.  
  
The only people who ever had were dead.  
  
All because of me.  
  
~Except for Potter. ~  
  
**Potter doesn't care about me. **  
  
~No but you care about him. ~  
  
** I don't give a damn about him. **  
  
~Then why is he still alive?~  
  
** . . . I don't know. **  
  
I bit the inside of my cheek- countless images were flitting through my brain.  
  
Screams, walls splattered with blood, people writhing in agony, bodies so deformed they were no longer recognisable as people.  
  
They flashed through my head so quickly that I could barely breathe, unable to focus on anything else.  
  
I couldn't do it.  
  
I couldn't do this anymore.  
  
I couldn't feel these things.  
  
I dug my nails into my palm.  
  
I couldn't bear it.  
  
The guilt was eating away at me, gnawing at my very being.  
  
It was his fault.  
  
He was the one who had uncovered this guilt.  
  
~You know how to end it. You know how to end it all. ~  
  
Yes. . . I did.  
  
Potter left his wand on the table and opened the fridge door.  
  
Something in my brain suddenly clicked and all the pain instantly died away.  
  
Everything inside me froze, all the pulsating emotions covered by a veneer of ice.  
  
~Take it. ~  
  
In a numb trance I reached for the wand, shivering as my fingers touched the smooth wood.  
  
'So what do you want to-' Potter turned around and froze when he saw me with the wand in my hand. 'What are you doing?' He asked suspiciously, a small frown on his face.  
  
'What does it look like I'm doing.' I snapped.  
  
'It looks like you're doing something really stupid.' He said warily.  
  
'More stupid than saving my worst enemy and killing the man who could give me power beyond your wildest dreams?' I asked in a pleasant tone as if I was asking about the weather.  
  
'I'd say so, but I may be a bit biased.' He replied, his eyes not moving from the wand. 'Now why don't you put the wand down?'  
  
'Hmmm . . . let's think about that. How about "no"?'  
  
'Draco . . .'  
  
'You don't get it do you Potter? Nothing's changed. Just because you can call me that doesn't mean that anything's changed between us.'  
  
'I didn't think it had.' His tone was low and level, almost calming.  
  
'Then why are you trying to think of a way to make me see the light instead of working out how to make it out of here alive?'  
  
He looked slightly taken aback and I deduced that I'd guessed his thoughts correctly.  
  
I rolled my eyes. 'You really do never change do you?'  
  
'Draco . . . ' He took a step towards me, letting his guard down for a fraction of a second.  
  
I hit him with all the force I could muster, pain exploding in my fist.  
  
He crumpled to the floor.  
  
I pointed the wand at his heart.  
  
'Avada Ke-'  
  
My legs were kicked out from under me and the wand went flying as I slammed against the floor, knocking all the breath out of me.  
  
'What the hell are you doing?' He yelled.  
  
'What the hell do you think?' I kicked him in the stomach and he doubled over.  
  
I crawled over to the wand.  
  
'Stop it!' He grabbed my leg and hauled me back away from the wand.  
  
'No! Fuck you!' Blood was streaming down my face and I blindly grabbed his neck.  
  
'Draco!' he managed to choke out. 'Stop it!'  
  
I tightened my grip and pain clouded his eyes.  
  
'You'll have to kill me first.' I hissed.  
  
I didn't see his fist until it connected with my nose.  
  
I saw stars and released him.  
  
He lurched forward and his fingers closed round the wand.  
  
The world around me was swaying and I grabbed the table, pulling myself up.  
  
Gasping for breath, he scrambled to his feet, his wand pointing directly at me.  
  
I let out a manic laugh. 'What you going to do Potter? Kill me?' I sneered at him. 'You haven't got the nerve.'  
  
'Are you sure about that?' His voice was low and dangerous.  
  
I raised an eyebrow. 'Why don't we find out?'  
  
A small frown played on his forehead.  
  
'Go on!' I shouted. 'Kill me!'  
  
He hesitated, his eyes never leaving my face.  
  
'Come on Potter, I'm evil! If you don't kill me I'll kill you. What's it going to be?'  
  
Slowly the hand holding the wand lowered until it was hanging by his side.  
  
'Fucking hell Potter! What the hell is wrong with you??' I shouted, shoving him. 'Why won't you just kill me??'  
  
I hurled the fruit bowl at him. It shattered into a thousand pieces as it flew past him and smashed on the wall.  
  
He didn't even flinch.  
  
'Come on- where's that famous fighting spirit??? Where's all that power everyone insists you have??'  
  
Silence answered me.  
  
'I'll kill everybody you ever met!' I threatened. 'If you don't stop me then I'll destroy your fucking world!'  
  
There was still no reply and it infuriated me.  
  
'Or are you nothing Potter? Are you just like everyone else? Too weak and scared to stand up to me??'  
  
I stormed towards him, needing to take out my frustration on him.  
  
'For fucks sake kill me Potter!' I screamed, my fist connecting with his nose with a sickeningly crunching noise once again. 'Kill me for God's sake! I'm evil! That's what you're supposed to do. You were supposed to kill me. You were always supposed to. I set you bloody free so that you could kill me and what did you fucking do!'  
  
His eyes watched me thoughtfully but he made no more moves to attack me.  
  
'Kill me Potter just do it!' My voice broke. 'Kill me now, I'm not going to stop you!' To my horror I felt tears running down my cheek.  
  
I grabbed his coat. 'Kill me. Just do it. I can't live like this. Please. I'm begging you just kill me. Kill me.' My hysterical gasping for air began to turn into sobs. 'Please Harry kill me.' My legs gave way and he grabbed hold of me, sliding down to the floor slowly with me. 'Please.'  
  
His arms wrapped round me and began to rock me slowly. 'Kill me.' I whispered.  
  
His green eyes met mine and they were filled with something I couldn't identify, something I had never even seen before.  
  
'No.' He whispered firmly.  
  
  
  
  
  
*Blinks*  
  
Wow that was.intense.  
  
Ok so sorry about all the dialogue between Draco's inner voices. This is really the first time he's ever had them and so they were bound to talk a lot. Plus with the whole inner debate thing I kinda needed them.  
  
I promise they won't be talking that much in future though.  
  
And for the record I just wanted to say - Book five! Waaahhh how cruel is JK Rowling??? And how mean did she make Draco??? And come to mention it how angry was Harry???  
  
And how could she kill- (pauses realising that not everybody has got to that part)- the person who she kills?  
  
Thanks for reading my story when the book's just come out.  
  
Please leave a review- I've had a severe lack of them lately and need them like oxygen (maybe even more so)!  
  
-Cherrycola 


	9. Chapter 9

Wow I know its been a while but I've been on holiday without access to a computer - it nearly killed me but it gave me plenty of time to brainstorm.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed - I love you all so much and am continually thankful that people are still reading this. Just . . . remember to keep reading k?  
  
Thanks so much to my new Beta-reader! You kick ass!  
  
So without further delay . . .  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I blinked my eyes open sleepily, sunlight causing me to shut them at once.  
  
I started to shift, and heard voices. The sofa under me creaked slightly and I froze immediately, not wanting to let anyone know I was awake.  
  
I had to strain my ears to hear the muffled shouts and with a bit of thought I identified the unfamiliar voices as Granger and Weasley's. I could hear my name mentioned every few seconds, so they obviously thought I was asleep. That would have been a correct enough observation moments earlier but now . . . I opened an eye cautiously, and saw that they were standing in the kitchen. If I leaned back about half an inch I could see them all perfectly.  
  
"We came as soon as the alarms went off," Granger told Harry. "What the hell was going on back there?"  
  
Harry offered her a small smile. "Momentary blip."  
  
"Momentarily blip??" she raged. "You call that a momentary blip???"  
  
"You've gone and done it now," the Weasel told Harry, looking at him in a way that implied, 'She's going to be at it for days'.  
  
Harry's eyes clearly said, 'I know'.  
  
"Harry, he tried to kill you!" she exclaimed. "That's not exactly a momentary blip."  
  
"He wasn't actually." Harry corrected her absently. "What?" Granger said, narrowing her eyes.  
  
"He wasn't trying to actually kill me."  
  
"Harry, he was halfway through saying the killing curse."  
  
He sighed. "Mione, I know you're only worried about me, but you shouldn't be. If Draco wanted me dead, then I'd be dead."  
  
"It really worries me that you can say that so calmly." Hermione said, frowning. "In fact, it worries me that you can be so calm about the entire situation. It's almost as if you don't care that he could kill you any second."  
  
There was a pause and an alarmed intake of breath.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me!" Weasley exclaimed.  
  
Damn. I wish Harry didn't have his back to me. I hadn't seen whatever he'd done.  
  
"Listen mate, you're my best friend and all, but you're being absolutely mental!' Weasley ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  
  
Granger silenced him with a look.  
  
"Harry- we know how you feel about him."  
  
"Much to our horror." Weasley muttered.  
  
"But that doesn't change the fact that he could kill you!"  
  
Hang on a minute - the way that he feels about me?  
  
"I know that, Hermione." Harry's voice had hardened.  
  
"Then what am I missing?" she asked desperately.  
  
In the silence that followed, my heart beat so loudly I was sure they'd know I was awake.  
  
Harry's serious voice broke the silence. "I think you should go."  
  
"Harry . . . "  
  
"Now." His voice left no room for questions.  
  
"I didn't mean to-"  
  
"I know." he said calmly. "but I think it would be best for all of us if you both left, and we never mentioned this again."  
  
There was a second stunned silence, broken this time by Weasley.  
  
"I don't believe this." he muttered bitterly. "I can't believe you're choosing him over us."  
  
"He's not-" Granger said firmly. "are you, Harry?"  
  
Harry looked at her impassively.  
  
"Oh." she whispered, her face shocked. "I see."  
  
Weasley backed over to the fireplace, shaking his head in incredulity. Without taking his eyes off of Harry, he disappeared.  
  
"You know Harry," Granger paused as she followed Weasley's example, sadness in her eyes, "we never changed. Ron and I were always here for you. It was you who didn't want us to be - it was you who changed, not us."  
  
He stared at her silently and she stepped into the fireplace, chin held high...and disappeared.  
  
Harry swallowed, hard, and turned around to face me. Quickly I snapped my eyes shut.  
  
I heard his soft footfall and then felt his presence as he stopped besides me. "Draco?"  
  
I could feel his eyes boring into me.  
  
"I know you're not asleep so you might as well just give it up."  
  
Damn. Busted.  
  
I opened one eye and peered at him.  
  
He had his arms folded and a semi-amused expression on his face.  
  
My throat felt like it was coated in a layer of sand and I swallowed nervously.  
  
"Hi." I rasped, grimacing at the sound of my scratchy voice.  
  
"Guess you heard all that, huh?" His expression told me in no uncertain terms that he'd rather I hadn't. Not quite up to discussing the many issues that had been raised by the conversation, I considered my answer.  
  
"Bits." I agreed cautiously. Harry nodded expressionlessly. "Er...they sounded pretty angry." I offered.  
  
"They'll get over it." he said shortly.  
  
**You hope** I thought, looking at the ground so he couldn't see the doubt in my eyes. He seemed to sense it regardless. "And if they don't then they obviously weren't my friends to begin with. If they can't understand how I- " Harry broke off, biting his lip angrily.  
  
Something in me told me that it was time to change the subject.  
  
"You know you don't seem very pissed off that I just tried to kill you."  
  
And how better to do it than with my customary bluntness.  
  
He shrugged. "People have been trying to kill me since the day I was born - I've truthfully become rather blasé about the whole thing." he paused, contemplating in mock seriousness. "Plus, of course, the fact is that you weren't actually so much trying to kill me as get *me* to kill *you*." he tilted his head to one side. 'So why was that?'  
  
"I don't want to talk about it." I mumbled.  
  
"I do." he said firmly.  
  
"Harry." my voice held a note of appeal.  
  
"That's the second time you've done that, you know."  
  
"Done what?" I asked curiously.  
  
"Called me Harry."  
  
I flushed. "Sorry."  
  
"I don't mind."  
  
"I do." I muttered  
  
"It's just it actually sounds like we could be friends when you call me that."  
  
"Well, I don't give a Fizzing Whizbee. You shall be Potter forevermore"  
  
He smiled slightly. "Well, there obviously isn't that big an issue if you're back to sarcasm already."  
  
'There isn't,' I was about to say, but stopped, realising with a twinge that maybe I did have a relatively large issue.  
  
Harry seemed to sense my sudden downward spiral and his eyes instantly lost their teasing sparkle and softened.  
  
"It's okay," he said reassuringly, "If you really don't want to talk about it, then we don't have to".  
  
I looked down and realised that for once in my life (and the only time I, hasten to mention) I had to grow some balls and confront the truth. I sighed. "I just.couldn't take it anymore."  
  
"Take what?" he asked softly, his eyes warm and concerned.  
  
I felt a violent shiver run through me. Why did he always have to look like he actually cared?  
  
But then.maybe he did. He was so full of goodness. It just seemed wrong that he wasted it on me when I didn't even deserve it.  
  
"Draco?" He prompted gently.  
  
I sighed again, preparing myself to tell him the truth.  
  
Funnily enough, it never occurred to me to lie to him.  
  
"I've never felt much of anything before- nothing except hate. Hate that was aimed at you. You were the only person who could get to me. And now . . . " I trailed off helplessly, ". . . since I saved you, there's been all these feelings inside me and I can't take it. I don't know how to cope with them all. They're driving me mad."  
  
"You were already mad."  
  
"Potter!" I exclaimed in annoyance.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"I'm trying to pour out everything I'm feeling here and it would be a lot easier if you stopped interjecting every three seconds," I fumed.  
  
"Sorry." Harry repeated.  
  
"Yeah, well, if you don't stop then I'm just not going to bother telling you, and then you'll never be able to explain it to Granger."  
  
"I'm not going to tell Hermione anything." he told me, grimacing. "I don't think she'd to listen to me, anyway.'  
  
In a sudden rush, I remembered how much Harry'd lost to get me here, and how much more he had risked. He deserved to know.  
  
"I'm just saying that suddenly all my memories have changed. When I think about what I've done-" I trailed off, unable to continue as I felt the regret I had never experienced during the acts themselves. My eyes fluttered shut briefly, as if that would somehow block out the never ending images that flickered through my brain. As if they weren't as deeply ingrained into me as my name- something I could never forget no matter how much I wished I could  
  
I swallowed, feeling myself jerk as screams echoed through my head, the pleas of the dying who had a better chance of negotiating with the devil than with myself.  
  
And I watched myself mercilessly slaughter, knowing that even if I had the chance to go back and undo what I had done, I wouldn't.  
  
It was a part of me, an experience that had turned me into the person I was today. And as bad as I felt about what I had done. . . I didn't hate myself enough to change my soul.  
  
If I even had one.  
  
Was it possible to do what I had done and to still have your soul?  
  
There was so much blood on my hands - the very reason for which I killed stained my hands as a reminder of what I'd done. Always blood. It was all that had ever mattered. Blood was life and I'd taken it away from those who were unworthy of it.  
  
My hands were stained with blood. . .  
  
And blood can never be washed away.  
  
I shuddered and as if someone had flicked a switch the pain and the memories were gone and I could breathe again.  
  
I looked at Harry, hoping he'd have got it by now and I wouldn't need to say anything else. I saw his face and realized with horror I realised that he thought I'd finally developed a conscience, and was suffering immense grief at what I'd done. He thought I was turning into a good guy.  
  
With a frown, I realised I'd have to tell him what I'd never told anyone before. "Harry you don't understand."  
  
I blinked in alarm. When had this whole "Harry" thing crept in?  
  
I wasn't even *thinking* of him as Potter anymore.  
  
From beneath my eyelashes, I saw a small smile cross his face. I could almost hear the thought 'That's the third time he's called me that' floating through his head.  
  
I bit my lip, feeling slightly bad at the hopeful expression that was in his eyes -the hope that I felt something for him.  
  
But I didn't.  
  
I didn't and he needed to realise that.  
  
"So explain it to me." He pressed.  
  
I sighed. "I don't feel guilty."  
  
His eyes looked at me disbelievingly and I corrected myself.  
  
"All right, I do. But not because of what you think."  
  
He didn't speak; instead his eyes asked the question his mouth did not.  
  
"I killed my father."  
  
Shock crossed his face. "*You* killed Lucius?"  
  
"You don't need to sound like it couldn't happen." my eyes narrowed- okay, I wasn't proud of what I'd done, but I wasn't going to be slighted.  
  
"I just never thought that-" He broke off, looking suitably shocked.  
  
"What- you never thought that I'd be powerful enough to kill my father?" Bitter resentment entered my tone.  
  
"Draco," he looked at me as though I was a petulant child, "teams of Aurors have been trying to bring you down for years with no success. I never thought that you were anything other than extremely powerful-"  
  
"And dangerous!" I interjected poutily.  
  
"And dangerous", he agreed with a smile.  
  
"Okay. So what did you mean, then?"  
  
"I just meant that you always seemed to adore your father, and look up to him."  
  
"I did." I agreed. "I worshipped him. Everything I did in my life was to make my father proud. Every thought, every action was because I wanted his approval."  
  
"So you killed him?" His voice was confused. I explained further.  
  
"It was never going to be enough. No matter what I did I was always in his shadow. He always had one up on me. And at the end of the day- he had what I wanted. So I did what he'd always wanted me to do - I took it."  
  
"And . . . killed him." Harry repeated.  
  
"Your genius never fails to astound me." I said sarcastically. "*That's*the reason you killed your father?" He exclaimed, stunned. I nodded. "It can't be that simple," Harry said in disbelief.  
  
"It was."  
  
"He was your father! Didn't you love him?"  
  
"Potter, you don't seem to understand me - I've never loved anybody. I don't know how!" Abruptly I stood up and began to pace from side to side in the room. "I know it shouldn't have been that simple, but it was. It never crossed my mind that I shouldn't kill him and I don't know why! All right, so I didn't love him, but he *was* my father- that should have counted for something, right?"  
  
Harry put a hand on my shoulder and I recoiled from the touch instantly, like a wild animal. Frustrated, I raked a hand through my hair, trying to take deep, calming breaths.  
  
Harry hesitated slightly and then spoke. "I don't know if it helps, but when I was anywhere near Voldemort I felt like a different person. He amplified all the anger and hate in me, and made me forget all the parts of me that were loving and good", he offered me a small embarrassed smile. "and I'm not sure you were ever given time to find those parts of yourself to begin with."  
  
I stared at the floor silently. I didn't deserve him trying to make this better. He'd already helped me far more than he should have done.  
  
"I'm not trying to excuse what you did," Harry continued, as though he could read my mind. "But I don't think you should blame yourself so much. Voldemort had a large part to play in your father's death whether he was there or not."  
  
"But ultimately . . ." I began.  
  
"Ultimately it *was* you pointing the wand." Harry agreed. "But you shouldn't beat yourself up over it too much."  
  
I looked at him seriously. "Why not?"  
  
For the first time I saw a flicker of cold, hard anger in his eyes.  
  
"Because he deserved it." Harry said evenly. "He died as a result of his actions. He died because that was the sort of person he wanted you to be - that's the sort of person he made you."  
  
I took a deep breath in, something in me both appreciating and abhorring the sick irony that had led to my father's death. And hearing Harry's words, I felt a small part of my guilt begin to die.  
  
It had taken Harry to understand that - it had taken Harry to understand me.  
  
I thought of the way that he always seemed to know what I was thinking, the way he seemed to be aware of my fears and insecurities and also knew exactly how to soothe them. Why was that?  
  
"You don't happen to have any mind-reading talents, do you?" I asked, suddenly suspicious.  
  
"What? No!" he laughed. "Why?"  
  
"No reason.' I said dismissively. "You just." I stopped abruptly, horrified by what I'd been about to tell him.  
  
Harry waited for me to continue and, realising I wasn't going to tell him, prompted me. "'I just' what?"  
  
"Nothing" I said quickly. "Nothing at all."  
  
And while he looked at me in confusion, I couldn't help but wonder who I was trying to convince.  
  
***  
  
"Why does your cat hate me so much?" Harry asked me sulkily, staring at Crucio from his sprawled position on the sofa.  
  
"He doesn't hate you- he hasn't attacked you in the last week." I informed him matter-of-factly.  
  
"You don't have to constantly attack people to hate them." There was something in his tone that alerted me to the fact he wasn't talking about Crucio anymore.  
  
"I don't hate you, Potter.'" I said simply, keeping my tone stable and almost blank. I could feel the doubt radiating off him. "I don't think we could be counted as friends, but I don't hate you." I expanded. "Not anymore."  
  
Not be counted as friends?  
  
He was the closest thing to a friend that I'd ever had . . . although I wasn't certain if people normally tried to kill their friends.  
  
But I couldn't tell him that. I didn't know why but I just couldn't bring myself to.  
  
A smile lit his face. "Do you want to hear a secret?"  
  
"I'm dying to." I drawled languidly.  
  
"I haven't hated you for a very long time."  
  
My heart was beating so loud that I was sure he could hear it. To mask it, I spoke.  
  
"That wasn't exactly the best kept secret in the world." I raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you've not acted very hateful, have you?"  
  
"Not since fifth year." He elabourated.  
  
If I didn't have endless poise and grace I would have choked. I almost did but caught myself in time, only allowing an exclamation to slip from my lips.  
  
"Fifth year?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
I frowned. "Well you didn't act like you didn't hate me. In fact," I tried to remember fifth year, "didn't you tell me that I was a conceited idiot who was only passing my subjects because my father was Snape's sex slave?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth sheepishly.  
  
"And that I was a complete tosser who was just a ferret masquerading as a human.and not even doing it well?"  
  
"Uhh-"  
  
"And that I looked like a girl?" I said, indignant at the memory.  
  
"Well-"  
  
"And that my mother must have been a banshee because I was so ugly , all the first years were afraid of me." I frowned. "You know that was a terrible insult - it was such a blatant lie. The first years were afraid of me because if they got in my way I turned them into the insignificant bugs that they were and stomped on them."  
  
He looked taken aback. "Oh."  
  
"So if you didn't hate me then how the hell do you treat your enemies?" I crossed my arms.  
  
He hesitated. "In all fairness ,you did start those fights."  
  
I snorted. "And finished them, too-if I remember correctly."  
  
"Well, I did get a few good shots in." He began to sulk  
  
I frowned, re-capping the insults I'd reeled off.  
  
"Actually, no-it was me who was supposed to be Snape's sex slave, wasn't it? Truly horrific thought, really. Ew." I shuddered.  
  
"Well, at least I disturbed you." he said triumphantly.  
  
"Not as much as you would have disturbed yourself if it had been true."  
  
He winced. "True."  
  
I laughed slightly and silence fell.  
  
"Your cat's looking at me funnily again." Harry blurted nervously.  
  
I smirked at his obvious trepidation.  
  
"Probably."  
  
"Why did you have to choose that insufferable ball of fluff to have as a pet? Why not some nice bunny, or something safe?"  
  
"The wizard doesn't choose the pet, the pet chooses the wizard." I recited.  
  
For someone who had apparently been a friend of that giant we'd had as a teacher, Harry sure hadn't paid a lot of attention in his lessons.  
  
"Like wands?" Apparently, I had unintentionally caught his interest. I nodded. "So the pet chooses the wizard it likes most?'  
  
"Partly. The type of pet a wizard has shows their character. All animals have an aura , and they choose the wizard with the aura that most matches their own."  
  
"So, if we take a look at Crucio here." Harry trailed off, looking at me expectantly.  
  
"Then I'd be fiercely independent, unable to get close to people, vicious, demanding, haughty and slightly malicious." I summed up.  
  
Harry's lips twitched. "Doesn't sound like you at all."  
  
"Shut it, Potter."  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Nope. I would be Draco." I gave him a dazzling smile.  
  
He raised an eyebrow.  
  
I laughed. "Fine - shut it Harry."  
  
"That's more like it."  
  
A warm feeling fluttered in my chest and I ducked my head.  
  
What the hell was wrong with me?  
  
"So why did I have an owl in Hogwarts?" Harry asked suddenly.  
  
"Because they wouldn't let you have a dog."  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed.  
  
I sighed. "Fine- because you felt trapped."  
  
"I didn't." Harry began and then stopped, obviously doubting the validity of his argument.  
  
"Whatever you say."  
  
"But I didn't buy her- Hagrid did."  
  
"Doesn't matter. It was still intended for you."  
  
"I didn't feel so trapped that I wanted to fly away." he objected.  
  
"So you should have had a dog."  
  
He was about to emphatically deny something again, but then his breath caught. "I did."  
  
It was so quiet I could barely hear it.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Sirius." He breathed, a look of sadness etched on his face.  
  
"You called your dog Sirius?" I wrinkled my brow.  
  
"Er.no, that would have been Snuffles."  
  
"Then Sirius is.?"  
  
"Sirius *was* my godfather."  
  
"Was?"  
  
"Yeah." He looked at his feet. "He and Remus died during the war."  
  
I frowned. "Sirius *Black*?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"And Remus Lupin?"  
  
A tired smile briefly flickered across his face. "The one and only."  
  
"Sirius *Black*?" I repeated dumbly.  
  
"Yeah, my godfather." He caught my look. "Oh, he wasn't evil - it wasn't him that betrayed my parents."  
  
Well duh.  
  
"No offence, but I think I know who's on my side." I tried to slow down my heartbeat.  
  
"Draco . . . I don't think you even know which side you're on." He smirked at me slightly.  
  
"I do when you're not there to confuse me.'" I said absentmindedly, so distracted I barely noticed Harry's blush at my words.  
  
His mentioning of those two people was as though he had picked the top off a scab and no matter what I did, the blood would continue to flow.  
  
Sirius Black. Remus Lupin.  
  
Those two names lingered in my mind, turning into faces.  
  
Faces which I'd seen many times.  
  
I shifted my weight uncomfortably.  
  
I glanced guiltily at Harry, as if he could somehow read the thoughts running through my head.  
  
I felt the leaden feeling of nausea thread its way through my stomach. Even from the few words he'd said about them I could tell they'd been important to him - no, not even 'been' - they were important to him.  
  
And Dumbledore had told him they were dead.  
  
The room suddenly felt stuffy and I tugged on my collar, feeling like my shirt was strangling me.  
  
They were currently housed in a top security prison. No-one who made it into that prison ever made it out again - dead or alive.  
  
Unless of course you were a Death Eater who had specific instructions to be in there . . . like me.  
  
Holy crap.  
  
I buried my face in my hands.  
  
I'd overseen their interrogations - I'd tried desperately to get every bit of information from them.  
  
I'd spent countless hours in their presence, learning how to best get to them.  
  
"Draco, are you all right?" Harry's voice was full of concern.  
  
Concern for me.  
  
"No." I tried to get my breathing under control. "No, I'm not."  
  
I wanted to tell him- tell him that two people who he obviously loved dearly were still alive but if he knew then he'd want to know where.  
  
And then I'd really have turned my back on my past.  
  
Harry was talking to me, asking me questions anxiously.  
  
"They're not dead." I blurted suddenly.  
  
He stopped. "What?"  
  
"Your godfather and the werewolf- although I bet they wish they were." This whole blurting things out thing was obviously addictive.  
  
"What do you mean, they're not dead?" His voice had hardened.  
  
Shit. Had I really meant to tell him that?  
  
"They're still alive. They're," I ran my fingers through my hair, "they're prisoners."  
  
All the colour had drained out of his face and I felt a niggling of that blasted guilt in my stomach. Instantly I tried to press it away, tried to crush it until no trace of it remained in me.  
  
Harry seemed unable to form words. "Prisoners?"  
  
I nodded in reply.  
  
"But Dumbledore told me they were dead."  
  
Well Dumbledore's a lying git who didn't want you risking your life to save them. "He probably thought they were."  
  
I stared at the sofa, noticing that his hand that was resting on it was shaking slightly.  
  
"Where are they?" he asked, his voice slightly stronger.  
  
I hesitated.  
  
"Draco, please. . . where are they?"  
  
Crap. This was a situation I'd rather not be in.  
  
I could not tell him and have him hate me for eternity, or tell him and therefore give him access to the information he'd need to track down every last Death Eater in the world. Everybody who had ever been a part of my life.  
  
I met his green eyes.  
  
They were filled with desperation and pain and I felt a lurch of guilt. My heart racing I stood up and walked over to the map. I searched it intently until I found what I was looking for. "Here." I circled a small town. "They're in here."  
  
"Thank you." he grabbed the map and headed towards the fireplace.  
  
"Harry, wait!" I ran to catch up with him. "You can't go in there."  
  
"Try and stop me."  
  
"You have no idea how dangerous it is."  
  
"You have no idea how much I don't care."  
  
"You can't take on dozens of Death Eaters by yourself!"  
  
"I damn well can." "Harry!" Even to my own ears ,my voice sounded desperate.  
  
He stopped and looked at me, breathing heavily. '"They're the only family I ever had." His eyes pleaded with me to understand.  
  
However I refused to give up my case. "Just take someone with you. Please! I don't want anything to happen to you." I snapped my mouth shut before I could say anything else incriminating.  
  
He stared at me in stunned silence and I fought a blush.  
  
"Nothing's going to happen to me." he said finally, his tone firm. "I'll talk to you later."  
  
He stepped into the fireplace and I felt the bitter taste of sick rise up my throat. I was dizzy with fear and my heart thumped so quickly it felt as though it would explode from my chest.  
  
I tried to remember all the defences of the prison but fear closed my access to the information like a solid door. Yet one glaringly obvious fact slipped through.  
  
"Harry!" I yelled.  
  
"What?" he paused, a handful of Floo powder held high.  
  
I swallowed, feeling my limbs begin to tremble. "You can't use magic in the inner keep."  
  
Confusion crossed his face and he looked at me questioningly.  
  
"Once you're in the actual prison area, no magic can be used- by either side. Watch out for the defence system. It won't be what you're expecting."  
  
He nodded, fully immersed on his objective and how he would achieve it.  
  
Barely even looking at me, he threw the handful of powder down.  
  
And as he disappeared, I wondered with a sinking heart if I'd ever see him again.  
  
  
  
  
  
So there we go.  
  
Slightly less dramatic than the last chapter but hopefully still enjoyable.  
  
Thanks for reading and PLEEEEAAASSEEEE leave a review! 


	10. Chapter 10

Ok sorry this took so long but I had a slight mix up with my beta-reader and it took an extra two weeks to have it ready.  
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed - I love you all so much!!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Shadows had long since darkened the room, colouring every familiar object black. I knelt among them as I had done for the last seven hours, not noticing the screaming protests of my limbs.  
  
I'd been waiting so long that I was beginning to give up hope. How would I know if he'd been captured?  
  
It wasn't as though Death Eater's sent a complimentary 'we regret to inform you that your husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend/son/daughter/mother/father/friend (delete as appropriate) has been captured' letter.  
  
I'd just be waiting for eternity- waiting until I had the sense to realise that he wasn't coming back.that he was dead.  
  
I chewed my lip for the thousandth time that night and tasted blood. "Please." I whispered. "Please."I swallowed. "Please bring him back." I looked at the shadowed fireplace and sighed. Even if he did come back.once he found out the truth about my involvement he'd never be able to look at me again.  
  
"Please don't let him hate me." My voice caught in my throat. Even if he does come back, then I'm not sure him hating me was a price I was willing to pay.  
  
I know that generally people are selfless and say 'as long as he comes back, then I don't mind' but then again, people are generally idiots.  
  
I didn't want him to die and I didn't want him to hate me- was that so much to ask?  
  
But if they caught him.  
  
I screwed my eyes shut and covered my ears with my hands. No. I wasn't even going to think about it.  
  
I couldn't even imagine what they would do to him if they caught him. Well, actually I could- that was the problem. I could practically see his face contorted with agony - the blood flowing down his pale skin. I could see them beating him into unconsciousness and hurting him until he couldn't scream anymore.  
  
I shook the images out of my head, trying to calm my racing heart down. I looked towards the fireplace, hoping that doing so would bring him back. My breath caught in my throat.  
  
Harry was watching me, his green eyes silent.  
  
"Harry." I breathed softly, relief sweeping through me. I squashed my sudden urge to throw my arms around him and never let him go.  
  
His stony expression didn't change and, noticing the look in his eyes, the relief in me turned to nervous fear.  
  
"Er . . .are you ok?" I asked uneasily.  
  
He blinked slowly. "I'm fine. And yourself?"  
  
His voice was impersonal and cool and did nothing to dispel my dears.  
  
"Uh . . . I'm ok."  
  
"Nothing you want to share with me?"  
  
I frowned. "Share?" I questioned confusedly.  
  
"Yeah- share."  
  
"What would I want to share with you?" I was genuinely lost.  
  
"Oh I don't know.anything about your involvement with Sirius and Remus.'  
  
Ah. That.  
  
In my excitement about his arrival I'd forgotten about that.  
  
And now he hated me.  
  
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for his hatred.  
  
"Potter, I understand if you want me to leave. I know I should have told you that I oversaw their interrogation , but I just wanted you to find them without being distracted with knowing that. I mean, if you'd known-"  
  
"You're babbling." Harry informed me. I stopped talking reluctantly. "Why do you feel guilty?"  
  
Where had these new skills of observation come from?  
  
'I don't feel-' I began.  
  
"Don't lie, Dray." he took a step closer. "You do feel guilty. And since when do you feel guilty?"  
  
Since you started calling me Dray?  
  
I swallowed nervously. "Since it hurt you."  
  
"And since when did you care how I felt?" he whispered.  
  
He was so close now, I could feel the heat radiating off his body.  
  
"I-" My eyes fluttered shut as he leant forward.  
  
BANG!  
  
I jerked back, my eyes snapping open.  
  
Sirius Black had just floo-ed into the living room.  
  
I stepped back away from Harry quickly. So quickly that a normal person would have entangled themselves in the carpet and tripped up- luckily I am not normal and so did not have to fall on my ass.  
  
Instead, as I began to topple backwards, I grabbed a fistful of Harry's shirt. Unfortunately, I'd made the hideous mistake of forgetting that Harry had the balance of a one legged Hippogriff.  
  
Therefore, the end result was slightly less graceful than I would have wished.  
  
"Well, that explains a lot." Black quipped as Harry and I desperately tried to untangle ourselves from the compromising position we'd landed in.  
  
"It's not what it looks like." Harry had turned a red colour I'd only ever seen before on tomatoes  
  
"Well, that's a relief, or else I may have had to have gouged my eyes out." he gave me a disgusted look. "At this rate I still might have to."  
  
I tried my hardest not to shoot him an evil glare.  
  
Black offered his godson a hand to pull him to his feet.  
  
I however stayed sprawled in an abnormal, extremely uncomfortable position on the floor. Not that I could really blame him for not helping me up - I had after all tortured the man continuously for two years. On the other hand - there was a lot to be said for good manners.  
  
Harry smiled in a pained kind of way. "Hey, Sirius."  
  
I considered the best way to get up without looking like a total twat. There weren't actually all that many options but considering that both the people in the room had forgotten I was there I didn't suppose it really mattered.  
  
I grabbed a chair and hauled myself to my feet completely ungracefully, not taking my eyes of the interchange in front of me.  
  
"Malfoy." Black sort of, almost, imperceptibly nodded his head in greeting.  
  
Damn, he saw me.  
  
"Black," I said in a cool 'I rule the world and do not mind at all that I seem to have tortured my first friend's godfather' tone.  
  
From the look he gave me he didn't really seem to be buying it.  
  
I returned to sulking.  
  
**Well I thought it was cool** ~Me, too.~  
  
He turned back to Harry. "I didn't really get chance to talk to you before."  
  
Harry shifted his weight awkwardly. "Yeah, I know. I."  
  
"I mean.you ran off pretty quickly after Remus told you who interrogated us." he shot me a look. "Makes a hell of a lot of sense now but I thought I'd come and see how you were."  
  
"How *I* am??" Harry grinned slightly. "I think I should be asking you that."  
  
Black smiled slightly. "I'm okay," he shot me a look, "No thanks to some people, though."  
  
I bit the inside of my cheek to restrain any retort. I had tortured the man after all. I could handle a few snide comments.  
  
"I mean, okay- murder, torture and bloodshed - that I've come to expect. But shacking up with my godson- that's an entirely different matter."  
  
"We're not 'shacking up' Sirius." Harry said disarmingly.  
  
Black made a 'humph' noise.  
  
"Honestly!" Harry pressed.  
  
"I don't believe you," Black looked at me and groaned. "Couldn't you at least have chosen a Death Eater with decent hair?"  
  
Okay, that was it. Goodbye, guilt. My eyes narrowed.  
  
Torture victim or not- no one disses the hair.  
  
"Says the man with three inches of slime on his poor excuse for a haircut." My fists clenched.  
  
Black's eyes flashed. "You little-"  
  
"OK!" Harry exclaimed, intervening. "Sirius why don't you come over here and Draco- you go over there."  
  
Reluctantly, I slunk over to the other side of the room, throwing deadly glares over my shoulder. "Sit." Harry ordered. I opened my mouth to object.  
  
"SIT!" he repeated.  
  
Muttering obscenities beneath my breath, I sat. What was I, a dog?  
  
Oh well- best seat in the house (literally) for watching Harry vs. Black - round one.  
  
"Are you absolutely crazy, Harry?" Black hissed.  
  
Oooh, starting already.  
  
Harry sighed slightly. "That seems to be the general consensus, yes."  
  
"What on earth is he doing here? Do you have any idea of what he could do to you?"  
  
"He's not going to do anything to me! Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed. "Why is everyone intent on giving me 1,001 reasons why this is a bad idea? I know it wasn't the smartest thing to, do but it was *my* choice, and I've made it."  
  
"But he's Draco Malfoy." Black sputtered. Oh, as if that explained everything.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I mean - shit- the only thing that could only be considered okay about him is the fact that we're related!"  
  
"Well that's something, right?" Harry asked doubtfully.  
  
"No. I was disowned, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
"What could possibly make you live with that pretentious slimeball?"  
  
I coughed slightly. "I can hear you, you know?" Black ignored me completely.  
  
Harry smiled slightly. "He's not as bad as you think."  
  
"I *highly* doubt that."  
  
"I can *still* hear you." I stressed.  
  
"Shut up." Black snapped. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"He's changed, Padfoot." Harry insisted.  
  
"Harry," Black sounded like he was talking to a child, "people like him don't change."  
  
"They do."  
  
"Actually, they don't." I chipped in.  
  
Harry shot me a glare. "Draco." He said warningly.  
  
Black's look was terrifying, but I met it without flinching.  
  
"Does he *have* to be here?" Black asked coldly.  
  
"I *do* live here." I commented. "But you're right." I turned to Harry. "Do I have to be here?"  
  
Harry folded his arms and looked at me with a furrowed brow. "Do you want to leave?"  
  
"No, not particularly." I shrugged. "I'd rather stay here and attempt to help you defend yourself, but I don't think that my presence is helping."  
  
Harry visibly softened. "It's helping me."  
  
"Oh, God." Black looked like he was about to throw up. "Oh, God- this is just wrong on so many levels."  
  
"Says the man screwing a werewolf." I retorted, feeling faintly put out by his criticising of Harry.  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open. "No way. You and Remus?" Black glared at me.  
  
"Oops." How could Harry have had no idea?  
  
"How long? " Harry asked in amazement.  
  
Black shrugged helplessly. "Well . . . forever . . . on and off." He looked a bit uncomfortable. "I mean, we weren't actually together but you know . . . feelings were there."  
  
"And you didn't tell me?" Harry looked hurt.  
  
"It wasn't something that would have been particularly easy to tell you."  
  
"You could have just said 'Harry, I'm in love with Remus, he's in love with me and we're one big happy gay family'." I offered. "Not exactly difficult."  
  
"Because you're such a poster child for honest, clean living." Black's voice oozed sarcasm. "What with all that murdering, raping and pillaging."  
  
"I've never lied to my godson." I folded my arms. "And I think you're thinking of pirates- I've never raped anybody. Been fighting them off with sticks actually."  
  
Black looked disgusted. "How on Earth did you not go to Azkabhan? I would have thought a judge would send you there just to shut you up."  
  
"I can imagine that would be true." I agreed.  
  
"And yet you're here." he said slowly.  
  
"Well, I've not had the opportunity to offend a judge yet."  
  
"Did they gag you in court?" Black looked hopeful.  
  
"Court?" I asked airily. "What court?"  
  
He froze. "You didn't go to court?"  
  
"Nope." I said with a smirk.  
  
Black slowly turned to Harry. "Why do I feel you had something to do with this?"  
  
"Uhhh.." Harry looked at the floor. "Because I did?"  
  
"What. Did. You. Do?"  
  
"I told everybody that Draco was a spy, and got Dumbledore to show McRain the information Draco sent during the war."  
  
"And where did you get that?"  
  
"I forged it."  
  
I choked, not realising the lengths Harry had gone to to keep me from going to Azkabhan.  
  
Black looked equally stunned. "That boy's no spy." He exclaimed.  
  
Boy? Excuse me, *boy*?  
  
"I know." Harry agreed despondently. "I know."  
  
"So what did you do? Perform memory charms on everybody?"  
  
'No." Harry looked at the floor. "I just gave everyone my word that he was."  
  
"And they believed you?" he said incredulously.  
  
'Yeah.' Harry said imperturbably.  
  
"Are they mad?"  
  
"No just blinded by his 'Boy who Lived' status". I drawled. "Either that or his preeetty green eyes," I smirked, "I could never really work out which one." Black just looked at me. "Yeah, should I just be quiet again?" I asked Harry. He nodded in reply, and I shut up.  
  
"That doesn't explain why he's here." Black said stubbornly.  
  
"Because he needed somewhere to stay. This was the last place anyone would expect, and I can keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."  
  
~I am calm. I am floating in a sea of peace and enlightenment. I am at peace with my inner self and with that nasty, conceited, arrogant, narrow minded, prejudiced piece of shit Black! ~  
  
Oops.  
  
"Harry, there was enough information in that place to find and catch every single Death Eater who ever existed, charge them and send them to Azkabhan for life." Black looked like he was about to explode with rage. "And you left it all there!"  
  
He had?  
  
I looked at him sharply and a flush spread on his cheeks, simultaneous with the flow of warmth inside me.  
  
"I didn't think it was ethical." Harry said softly.  
  
"Ethical?"  
  
"Draco only told me where the base was so I could rescue you. I wasn't going to throw that back in his face. The Death Eaters will all be caught eventually- there's nothing they can do to escape it."  
  
"So why does it matter if you took the information?"  
  
"Because I'd be betraying someone's trust, and that would make me just as bad as them."  
  
"And lying doesn't?"  
  
Black and Harry were caught in a battle of will, their eyes locked on each other. The silence stretched on, neither of them so much as blinking. Eventually, Harry broke their gaze and shook his head slightly. "Sirius . . . "  
  
"If I told them . . . " Black's voice told how serious he was about this threat; 'he'd be in Azkabhan in a heartbeat.'  
  
"True." Harry nodded. "And so would I."  
  
Black frowned, realising that this battle was not going the way he wanted it to. "Harry-"he started.  
  
"Look, Sirius," Harry interrupted, "If you love me, then this is something you're just going to have to accept. I know this is a horrible thing to spring on you. I know that you don't understand and probably never will, but I just need you to accept it okay? You don't have to like it- you don't even have to approve - I just need you to accept it."  
  
There was a chilling silence. "I'm not sure I can do that." Black said softly.  
  
The pain in Harry's eyes was unbearable. It looked as though he'd just lost the only person who mattered to him and as though he'd die of heartbreak.  
  
"Harry," I said suddenly. "Will you excuse us for a second?"  
  
"'Us'?" Harry looked faintly worried. "Who's 'us'?"  
  
"Myself and Black." I stated calmly.  
  
"Uhmmm . . . " he looked reluctant.  
  
"Please."  
  
The p-word seemed to clinch it.  
  
"Fine." Harry said slowly. "But you can't injure, maim, or attack him in any way."  
  
"I'm sure Black can take care of himself."  
  
"That didn't answer my question."  
  
"I'll behave." I promised.  
  
Hesitantly, Harry got up and left the room.  
  
As soon as his footsteps became faint, I spun and advanced on Black.  
  
"Listen Black, I know you don't like me-" He made a strangled 'understatement of the century' noise which I ignored. "And truth be told I'm not that keen on you either. And whilst I really am enjoying these wonderful arguments with you, I don't think they're helping Harry one bit. You're his godfather and he needs you. You're important to him and for some reason, which I don't really understand, I'm important to him as well. And he doesn't need us fighting."  
  
Black's mouth was open. "How dare you have the audacity to lecture me about my own godson's happiness?"  
  
"Because as much as you don't believe it- he's important to me too."  
  
"I would sooner die than hurt Harry." he hissed.  
  
"Then grow the fuck up and start acting like an adult." I snapped.  
  
"I *am* acting like an adult - I'm trying to protect him."  
  
"Newsflash - you can't protect him. He's been through a lot. He doesn't need to be protected."  
  
"Then what does he need?"  
  
I sighed. "You're the closest thing he's ever had to a family. And while I didn't object too strongly when his friends left him out in the cold, I'm not going to let you do it without a damn good reason. He's got a hell of a lot of issues and he needs someone to be there for him."  
  
"And you think that's going to be your role, do you?" Black folded his arms.  
  
I looked at him coldly. "That wasn't what I was implying."  
  
"Then what were you implying?"  
  
I looked at him incredulously. "Bloody hell, Black it shouldn't take me to tell you to support him." I snapped.  
  
"How can I support him when what he wants is you?" he exploded.  
  
I stopped, breathing heavily. "Harry doesn't know what he wants, ok? He's confused, he's tired, he's lonely - he doesn't know who or what he wants."  
  
"Harry knows exactly what he wants," Black's eyes flashed, "he's not a child."  
  
My voice was icy as I met his eyes. "Then don't treat him like one."  
  
Black stared at me silently, his feelings inscrutable.  
  
Catching sight of Harry in the corner of my eye, I calmly extended my right hand.  
  
"Nice to see you, Black." My voice was polite and formal.  
  
He hesitated for one moment then reached out and took my hand. "You too, Malfoy." his lips curved up into a smirk. "Must do it again some day."  
  
"And be sure to bring your boyfriend." I stepped away, nodding slightly to Harry.  
  
"Yeah," Black's smirk deepened, "we can double date." Harry choked and I fought a smile. Maybe Black wasn't all bad.  
  
"See me out, Harry?" Black said pointedly.  
  
"Sure." Harry walked him over to the fireplace and I moved into the kitchen on a search for food.  
  
My worrying for Harry had made me exceptionally hungry, and I managed to dig out a variety of flavours of crisps. Loaded with my findings, I returned to the living room and dumped them on the table.  
  
"How did you do that?" Harry asked in amazement, walking back into the room.  
  
"Do what?" I asked around a mouthful of crisps.  
  
"Get Sirius to be civil to you."  
  
I shrugged slightly. "My incredible charm?"  
  
"No . . . seriously."  
  
I sent him a mock glare. "That was seriously."  
  
"Oh . . . all right then." Harry looked a tad confused.  
  
I smiled slightly. "I was kidding, you fool."  
  
"I know that - I was just leaving you to your mad delusions."  
  
"Mad delusions?" I faked incredulous anger. "Mad delusions?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
I fluttered my eyes slightly and took a step forward. "So you don't think I'm charming, then?"  
  
Faced with an incredibly charming Draco Malfoy, Harry did the only thing he could do.  
  
Stuttered.  
  
"Well . . ." he stuttered. "I'm sure you're very charming but-"  
  
"But? There is no 'but'- I am damn well am charming." I leaned forward further. "You've just never found out how much."  
  
Harry was staring me at with a stunned expression, his eyes glazing over. My heart fluttered in my chest as he closed the distance between us.  
  
Our lips were about to touch when-  
  
BANG!  
  
'What the hell is going on here?' I exploded. 'Is this some sort of conspiracy?'  
  
I whirled round and barely had time to throw myself to one side before a red beam of light was hurled towards me. I hit the floor and rolled, banging my shoulder painfully on the table.  
  
'What the hell?' I repeated, half raising myself.  
  
'Stay the fuck down.' Harry shouted, pushing me back into my sprawled heap as another spell narrowly missed me.  
  
"You wish." I ground out, advancing on all fours, to peer over the back of the sofa.  
  
A masked Death Eater was muttering incantations, sending spells flying in ever direction.  
  
"Come out, traitor!" The Death Eater shouted.  
  
"Aww sorry to disappoint you but I came out a long time ago. Shame you missed it- it was a good party."  
  
The assassin tried to see where I was. "Where are you?" he growled. I rolled my eyes- did this bloke have an ounce of intelligence?  
  
Harry was silently and stealthily creeping round the room. Had to hand it to him he was dedicated - he wasn't even going in with the banter. That was the best bit!  
  
"Behind you." I popped up, trying to give Harry an opening to attack.  
  
The Death Eater spun round his wand pointed straight at me.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
Oh shit oh shit oh shit.  
  
"Ava-"  
  
"Expelliarmus." Harry shouted. Sweat apparent on my forehead, I glared at Harry.  
  
"How long does it take?" I exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
"He could have killed me!"  
  
"He didn't." Harry said weakly.  
  
"Yeah well, we'll talk about this later." I threatened.  
  
I turned to the figure frozen at the other side of the room.  
  
"Naylor, take the fucking mask off." I snapped. I only knew one Death Eater who was stupid enough to turn his back on the enemy. The figure hesitated. "You always were a shitty assassin - it's not hard to tell who you are. Are times so hard that they had to send you to do a real wizard's job?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "For God's sake." I stormed over to where he stood and wrenched the mask off his face. "There. I did it. Now you don't have to worry about betraying 'Death Eater principles' or some equally shitty drivel. You always did have far too many principles." I gave him a speculative look. "Thought obviously not enough to abstain from killing your own leader."  
  
Anger flickered on Naylor's stony face. "No more than what you did, and no less than you deserve."  
  
"Ooh clever- who taught you that one?" I contemplated. "Zabini, right? Seems like his sort of misguided style."  
  
"No one had to teach me- traitor. I know exactly what to do with people like you."  
  
"People like me?" I adopted a mock-offended tone. "Aw, Potter, see what you reduced me to?"  
  
Harry looked at me as if I were crazy. "Uh Draco don't you think that we should be . . . " he nodded towards Naylor, who was edging towards the fireplace.  
  
"Hmm? Oh- no." I watched Naylor. "Just let him leave. The Death Eaters will punish him far more effectively than your side could. An assassin who failed his mission is as good as dead anyway."  
  
There was a flash of green fire.  
  
"Good riddance." I said brightly. "Truthfully, I can't even believe he left his wand - what an idiot. To think he was one of my own." I shook my head mournfully.  
  
"Draco, the fact that your employees are totally useless aside." Harry's voice was faintly sarcastic (a new and exciting stage for him). "Shouldn't we be bothering about the fact that you're now a Death Eater target, and they know where you are?"  
  
I shook my head unconcernedly. "Nope."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"Because it'll take them at least three days to plan another attack - assuming they can even be bothered. Zabini doesn't really have all that much patience."  
  
"I still should inform Dumbledore that-"  
  
"Maybe later, Harry." I led him over to the sofa. "What you should do now is tell me all about your little adventure at Prison number 243111."  
  
"How many prisons do you have?" Harry asked incredulously.  
  
"Twelve - it just sounds more impressive with a six digit name."  
  
Harry snorted slightly and sat down on the sofa.  
  
I flopped down next to him and prepared to ask questions. "How did you get them out, anyway?"  
  
"Oh- guns." Harry shrugged. "Not the thing that a load of purebloods would have been expecting."  
  
I frowned. "They're those things that were in that film, right?"  
  
"James Bond? Yeah they are - but mine were far less cool."  
  
"So you just ran in there shooting people randomly."  
  
"No." Harry looked at me as if I were mad. "I and ten people ran in there shooting people randomly."  
  
"Ah I see." So he'd taken my advice after all. "So Sirius and Remus were okay?"  
  
"Yeah they seemed to be. I think I'm supposed to be having dinner with them some time- should be fun. Of course *now* I'm just going to look at them and see them in bed together, which will be faintly disturbing, to say the least."  
  
I laughed slightly. "Well I'm glad you got them back."  
  
Harry smiled. "It was only thanks to you that I did."  
  
"It was thanks to me that you almost lost them." I countered.  
  
"I still got them back." he said softly.  
  
I made a noncommittal noise and looked down. Harry broke the silence minutes later. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"You didn't really give me much choice there did you?" I drawled.  
  
"Seriously." he stressed.  
  
I sighed. "Go ahead."  
  
He looked down at his hands a blush staining his cheeks. "That thing that happened between us at Hogwarts . . ."  
  
I knew that was going to come back and bite me in the ass.  
  
"Do you ever think about it?"  
  
"No." I lied, trying not to notice his disappointed expression. "Why- do you?"  
  
"No." he replied quickly, too quickly.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell between us and I shifted my weight nervously, trying to decide what to say.  
  
"Potter it was one kiss that happened five years ago. Don't make it into something it isn't."  
  
"And what isn't it?" he asked quietly.  
  
Important. Special. Incredible. Meaningful.  
  
A thousand words flashed through my mind but I couldn't use any of them.  
  
"A big deal." I said finally after a large silence. "It wasn't a big deal. You weren't by any means the first or last person I kissed, on either side. It didn't mean anything right? It was just . . . " I struggled for words, "it was just a stupid mistake that won't be repeated."  
  
Slightly shell-shocked he nodded numbly.  
  
I settled back onto the sofa, trying to relax.  
  
I kinda hoped that that was it but it seemed that it was only the tip of the iceberg. Harry wanted to talk to me about something and he was too shy or stupid or honourable to.  
  
After a few minutes of his insufferable shuffling and fidgeting I snapped.  
  
"Potter, why don't you just come out and ask me what you want to."  
  
Did I really need to use the phrase 'come out'?  
  
"What?" he looked startled.  
  
"Ever since I got here you've been wanting to ask me something but you haven't out of fear, honour or some other equally twisted emotion. Just ask me."  
  
For a second I thought I'd scared him into fleeing but to my surprise he stood his ground.  
  
"Why didn't you want anything to happen?" he blurted. "Why did you run away from it?"  
  
"Why did *I* run away from it?" I asked in disbelief. "You're the one who never bloody turned up. I waited for you for three hours and you never came. And then let's be honest- it wasn't like you ever really felt the need to talk to me again was it?"  
  
"You're the one who never replied to my letter- what was that if not running away?"  
  
I looked at him as if he was crazy - which in fact he probably was. "What are you talking about? What letter?"  
  
"What letter?" he exploded incredulously. "What letter?"  
  
Yes Potter- what letter?  
  
"That would be the letter in which I told you how crazy I was about you. The letter in which I said that I thought about you every second of every day and had done for a really long time. The one where I said that I might be falling in lo-" he stopped suddenly, noticing my blank look. He swallowed slightly, the colour swiftly draining from his face. "You really don't know what letter?"  
  
Mutedly I shook my head in confirmation.  
  
"Oh." he squeaked slightly, swallowing noiselessly. "Ok. Well I'll just go and . . . " he waved his hands around, unable to think of anything, " . . . be somewhere that isn't here."  
  
He dashed out of the room, his actions positively screaming 'oh my god I'm such a moron'.  
  
Which - ok he was but still . . .  
  
He was 'falling in lo-'.  
  
Now I'm not trying to sound conceited here but there are only so many things that could mean.  
  
I vaguely did a run through of all the words I could think of beginning with lo.  
  
Well unless he was falling in lotion then I could probably deduce that the missing word was love.  
  
Love.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
. . .  
  
Fucking hell.  
  
My eyes doubled in size as I thought about it.  
  
Harry Potter was in love with me.  
  
Black was right-that sounded wrong - so very very wrong.  
  
I mean it would explain an awful lot but .  
  
It just -  
  
He couldn't -  
  
When -  
  
How -  
  
Why couldn't I even fucking form a thought sentence anymore?  
  
Other than the fact that the world could quite possibly be ending.  
  
He couldn't love me.  
  
I mean okay - I was fucking gorgeous and rich and powerful and witty and anybody who didn't instantly fall to their knees and worship me was a total idiot but.  
  
Actually, why couldn't he love me?  
  
Oh yeah . . . because we were supposed to hate each other.  
  
But then again ,we didn't, so that excuse sucked.  
  
Uhmm . . . I'd killed half the wizarding world?  
  
Although he didn't actually seem to hold that against me.  
  
He wasn't supposed to be gay?  
  
But I wasn't exactly complaining seven years ago when he had his tongue stuck down my throat.  
  
Wow, this was difficult.  
  
I scrunched my face up, desperately brainstorming for ideas.  
  
Ooh ooh I had it - the mother of all reasons.  
  
I didn't love him and therefore did not want or deserve his love.  
  
Having settled that I relaxed, trying to ignore the niggling feeling that somehow . . . I didn't think it was going to make a blind bit of difference.  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks for still reading!!!  
  
Please review cuz they keep me going  
  
~Cherrycola~ 


	11. Chapter 11

Wow! Thanks everyone who reviewed that last chapter - it really meant a lot to me  
  
This is the penultimate chapter - not the end! Not the end!  
  
So here it is  
  
  
  
  
  
I sat in shock for twenty minute before deciding I should go check Harry hadn't thrown himself out of a window.  
  
And if at the same time he happened to mention what the 'lo' word had been then that was only an added bonus.  
  
It wasn't as if I was going all the way up the stairs just to find out if he was in love with me . . . or at least I liked to believe I wasn't.  
  
"Can I come in?" I stood hesitantly at the threshold to Harry's room, staring at the closed door.  
  
Silence answered me.  
  
"'Harry?" I knocked impatiently. "Can I come in?" Bloody git- he was ignoring me. "Harry, will you open this bloody door?"  
  
I rolled my eyes- why was he being so stubborn?  
  
"If you don't open this door within the next five seconds. . . " I trailed off realising that there was actually nothing I could do. Oh, why couldn't I just give up?  
  
Unfortunately I knew the answer to that - if I wanted to know then I had to go in . . .  
  
Unless of course he wanted to come out.  
  
And there was that damn phrase again!  
  
"Go away!" Harry called, his voice muffled, as though it was buried in a pillow.  
  
"Give me one good reason why I should."  
  
"Because I'd like to die of embarrassment by myself."  
  
I snorted. "Nonsense- you're a Gryffindor, you can't do anything by yourself!"  
  
There was an impatient sigh and the door was flung open. "Do you not even have the decency to let me suffer without an audience?" Harry snapped.  
  
"Decency? Me? Come now Harry what do you think I am, a Hufflepuff?" I tilted my head slightly to the side. "Now are you going to let me in?"  
  
With narrowed eyes he swung the door open and let me past.  
  
"You know, this is the first time I've ever come in here." I remarked, surveying the hunter green walls and the checked bedspread.  
  
"You've lived here for two months and you've never been in my bedroom?" Harry asked, a skeptical expression on his face.  
  
"Yeah." I opened a draw and peered inside.  
  
Harry cocked an eyebrow at my nosiness. "What do you think?"  
  
I looked at him intently. "It's you."  
  
"Actually it's my *room*." he corrected me with an impish smile, settling back on his bed.  
  
"Shut up- you know what I mean."  
  
"Yeah . . . I do."  
  
The look in his eyes reminded me why I was there. "Harry . . . " I started, my tone serious.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it." he said firmly.  
  
"Ok." I said softly, wondering why I was accepting that when I definitely wanted to talk about it.  
  
He pulled a pillow into his lap and hugged it, sighing slightly. I stared at the walls, trying desperately to think of something to say to change the subject. "So do you always decorate to colour coordinate with your eyes?" I asked with a smirk.  
  
"No." Harry looked round languidly. "Sometimes I decorate to colour coordinate with *your* eyes." he smirked slightly. I blinked. Was he flirting?  
  
"Why? What colour are my eyes then?"  
  
"Beautiful."  
  
Definitely flirting.  
  
"That's not a colour." I objected, a slightly nervous tone in my voice.  
  
"Well, it should be."  
  
I opened my mouth and then closed it again, completely unsure of what I should do. I wasn't used to not being in control and it was confusing me greatly.  
  
"Er . . . okay then." I knew there was a reason I never came into his bedroom. I backed away towards the door. "I'm just going to . . . go." Wow, I sounded like an idiot.  
  
"You do that." Harry agreed, humour crossing his face as he realised he'd somehow turned this situation completely around.  
  
"Bye, then." I quickly stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me.  
  
Talk about a shift of power - how the hell had he done that? That was the thing about Harry - every time I thought I had him figured out, he did something that made me realise that he hadn't shown me half of who he really was.  
  
***  
  
"Do we have to watch this?" Harry moaned.  
  
"Of course." I kept my eyes glued to Friends.  
  
"But why? It's a load of-"  
  
I gave him a warning look.  
  
"Fine." he sighed. Happily, I turned back to the TV. "Draco." Harry sounded terrified.  
  
"What?" I asked distractedly.  
  
"Your cat's walking towards me." I looked over and stifled a grin, watching with great interest.  
  
"I always find it peculiar that Voldemort, the most powerful murderous killer who ever existed, didn't scare you, yet my cat does."  
  
"Yeah well," Harry said through gritted teeth, "Voldemort didn't have claws and a tail."  
  
"As far as you know." I muttered. Harry attempted a weak smile at Crucio, who tipped his head to one side slightly and looked long and hard at Harry.  
  
Harry swallowed nervously and didn't move an inch.  
  
I looked curiously at the interaction, finding it more than vaguely entertaining. In one sudden move, Crucio jumped on top of Harry.  
  
"Ahhh!" Harry yelled.  
  
I almost died of suffocation due to laughter. "Draco, your cat's trying to- " he paused realising that Crucio was in fact settling down to sleep on his knee.  
  
"To use you as a pillow?" I asked innocently. The look of utter shock on his face was priceless.  
  
"It didn't kill me." he said in surprise.  
  
"No, *he* didn't." I really got fed up of Harry treating Crucio like an inanimate object.  
  
"I don't get it."  
  
"Shouldn't you just be grateful that he didn't shred you?" I suggested.  
  
"He still might." Harry muttered darkly.  
  
"No he won't, will you Crucio?" I said fondly.  
  
'I wouldn't bet on it' was the returned stare of my cat.  
  
Hoping Harry couldn't interpret the stares of my cat I turned to him with a bright smile. "See?"  
  
"I don't believe you." Harry said stubbornly (luckily for his safety - I really couldn't say how long Crucio's generous phase was going to last).  
  
Crucio gave Harry a disdainful look and moved from his lap into my own. Well, at least that took away the risk of Harry being torn to shreds.  
  
"I think I'm going to go get some work done." Harry stood gingerly as though that was going to incite Crucio to attack.  
  
"Have fun." I smiled, trying to stop myself of thinking of ways to torture Harry with the new information I'd learned about his feelings. I mean . . . it was unfair to make someone suffer just because they were in love with you . . . right?  
  
Of course, it could just be his stupid fault for falling for me in the first place. It wasn't as though I'd asked him to love me - in fact I'd pretty much done everything I could think of to earn the opposite.  
  
The rules hadn't changed just because I knew how he felt. I was still out to drive him absolutely mad.  
  
And now I had more ways than ever to do it.  
  
With a smirk I shoved Crucio off me unceremoniously and walked over to the table. I leant over Harry's shoulder, studying the piece of paper. "What's that?" I spoke directly into his ear, pretending not to notice the way his breathing had increased.  
  
How could I have not known the depth of his feelings a long time ago? I mean, sure I knew he liked me, but he really was a bit transparent. 'Liking' didn't make someone incapable of thinking, breathing or moving every time the other person was near them.  
  
"It's a coded message." he answered, sounded a little flustered. "I'm supposed to decode it but I can't bloody get past the first three words." I nodded slightly as if I was incredibly interested (which I was not).  
  
"So what does that mean?" I pointed at the first 'word'.  
  
My cheek brushed against his and he swallowed nervously.  
  
"It means . . . uh . . . that."  
  
That you're thinking about shagging me?  
  
"Um . . . " he continued.  
  
That there are too many hormones in your body for you to actually process any thoughts?  
  
"Yes?" I prompted sweetly.  
  
"Uh . . . " he repeated, trying to remember whatever the hell it actually did mean. "It's not important."  
  
I hid a grin. "Okay, then."  
  
He licked his lips nervously. Poor guy. I moved away and watched in amusement as his upper body instantly relaxed.  
  
Sorry, Harry, but you can't get rid of me that easily.  
  
I grabbed a chair and dragged it up to the table, placing it directly next to Harry. "Mind if I watch?" I inquired sweetly.  
  
"Um, no, of course not." he lied, knowing he wasn't going to get anything done if I was sitting that close to him. "Just . . . don't talk, all right?"  
  
"All right." I agreed easily. I didn't need to talk to torture him.  
  
He set back to work and I waited until he was again absorbed in his work, It took a long time for that to happen, but I happened to be a very patient person . . . when it suited me.  
  
With a mischievous smirk I stretched an arm slowly across his lap, letting it gently fall until "Awqkh." Harry squawked.  
  
"Sorry." I looked at him innocently, puppy dog eyes telling him that I wouldn't even think about doing that on purpose.  
  
"T-t-that's ok." he stuttered, blood rising in his face . . . and another certain place as well.  
  
I tried my very hardest not to snicker. I was driving him mad.  
  
Slowly but surely driving him mad.  
  
It was the least I could do in return for him giving me all these damned feelings. I did actually feel a tad guilty - it was okay to mess with someone who just wanted you but someone who loved you was a different matter. Then again, I really did believe what I'd told Sirius - Harry didn't know what he wanted and definitely didn't have a clue what he needed.  
  
"I think I might take a break." Harry said unsteadily, trying to get his breathing under control.  
  
"Okay. Do you want to watch some TV?" I asked with a smile.  
  
"Sure. As long as I get to pick what we watch."  
  
I frowned. Harry had terrible taste in TV. Who knew what crap he'd put on? However, I was in a generous mood so I graciously agreed.  
  
Thirty minutes later, watching a ridiculously sappy and cheesy love story I sincerely wished I'd gone with my first instinct- 'no you can't you nasty little wizard, die die die!!!'  
  
Unfortunately . . .  
  
"That's so cliché." I said with a combined frown and sigh.  
  
"Hmm?" Harry turned his attention to me.  
  
"Well you know- in films the girl always gets something on her face and the bloke tells her and reaches out to wipe it off. Then they staring into each others eyes and both realise that they have feelings for each other. Next thing you know, they're kissing each other and everything turns out happily ever after."  
  
"So?"  
  
"It always happens!"  
  
"Yeah but that's because it's cute." Harry argued.  
  
"You think it's cute?" I grinned.  
  
"Well . . . yeah. Don't you?"  
  
"In a kinda 'overused repetitive unimaginative' way sure."  
  
Harry shook his head. "You have no sense of romance."  
  
"How is that romantic?" I exclaimed. "They're at a bus station!"  
  
"It doesn't matter where they are! The point is that they realised that they love each other."  
  
"But how does having something wiped off her cheek convince her that she's in love with him?"  
  
Harry hit his head with his hand. "It doesn't! It just - oh it doesn't matter . . . I give up."  
  
He stabbed the button on the remote control violently and changed the channel.  
  
"No! No! Turn it off!" I hid my face with a cushion. "Make it go away!"  
  
"It's a needle, Draco." Harry looked at me as if I was mad.  
  
"But they're putting it in him! Switch it off!" Realising that he wasn't going to I fumbled for the controls and switched off the TV. Satisfied that the nasty needle had gone away I emerged from under the pillow.  
  
"What was that?" Harry asked in amazement.  
  
"I'm afraid of injections." I muttered.  
  
"You're afraid of injections!" Harry exclaimed. "You're afraid of *injections*  
  
"Yeah so?"  
  
"You killed thousands of people and tortured hundreds and you can't even watch someone get an injection?"  
  
I shuddered, beginning to take offence at his expression. "What? It's not like I ever injected anybody - even I'm not *that* cruel."  
  
"You're telling me that you're not cruel enough to give a 'mudblood' an injection?" Harry said cynically.  
  
"Yeah! It's not like they've done anything wrong - I wouldn't wish that on anybody." I winced again.  
  
"But I thought you hated muggle born wizards...?"  
  
"I'll let you in on a little secret - I don't actually give a shit whether people have pure blood, impure blood or no damned blood at all."  
  
"Then why did you do it?"  
  
"Power." I replied simply as if this was the most obvious thing on the planet.  
  
"Oh." Harry looked taken aback.  
  
"I used to believe that blood mattered." I admitted softly, not wanting him to think too badly of me. "I did before I realised that it was just Voldemort's fucked up excuse for taking over the world. And by the time I found that out I was too far in to suddenly back out." I sighed. "I didn't even want to. I wish I had done now, but back then it wasn't something I considered."  
  
Harry nodded slightly and took a sip of his coffee. Well, since we were in the mood for sharing.  
  
"What did Granger mean?"  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"When she said that it wasn't her and Weasley who changed."  
  
"Oh . . . that." Sadness radiated off his face and suddenly he seemed older, weary of the responsibilities life had handed him. "When the war really started I had to grow up pretty quickly. It was a lot of responsibility for an 18 year old to handle - having everybody expect him to single-handedly win the war. I mean, fuck, eventually I believed I had to as well. I blamed myself for every person that died and for every Death Eater who didn't." he sighed. "And I didn't have time for friends. I didn't have the time or the energy to listen to them tell me that it wasn't my fault. They were right but I just couldn't take it. It's easier to blame yourself than to know there was nothing you could have done."  
  
"You were *eighteen*, Harry." I reminded him.  
  
He shrugged. "People have been expecting that of me since I was born - my age didn't come into it."  
  
"Shouldn't it have made you more dependent on them? Granger and Weasley, I mean."  
  
"I couldn't afford to depend on anything or anybody. I was terrified of losing them - of them dying when I needed them the most. So I just stopped needing them."  
  
I shuddered slightly, feeling suddenly cold. "And I thought that it was just my side that did that to people."  
  
Harry leant his head on his hands. "I lied to myself though- I didn't stop needing them - I needed them even more, I just convinced myself that I was invincible that nothing could get to me."  
  
"But it could?"  
  
He nodded, swallowing hard. "Losing them was the hardest thing I ever had to do," he stared at the table, "I miss them so much."  
  
"So why didn't you tell them that?"  
  
Harry frowned. "This is war, Draco - things have to change. Sacrifices have to made."  
  
"Harry," I smiled at him slightly, "the war's over."  
  
And those simple words resounded through my very being. I'd been rejecting Harry's offer of friendship over and over again because we were on opposite sides . . .  
  
We were on opposite sides of a war that was over.  
  
And now I'd realised that, my reasons were as finished as the war.  
  
"Is it?" he sighed, doubt in his eyes.  
  
"Yes, it is." I said softly.  
  
"I'm not sure it'll ever be over." Despair radiated off him.  
  
I sighed, counting off on my fingers. "Number one on your most wanted list is dead, number two is living in your house and number three doesn't have the brain cells to spell his own name let alone take over the world."  
  
Harry frowned. "There's a number three?"  
  
I rolled my eyes. "You're missing the point."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"The point is that there isn't anyone to keep on fighting the war." I leaned over and took his hand without even thinking about it. "The only war that's left is the one you're still fighting . . . with yourself. You don't have to be the 'Boy who Lived' anymore."  
  
Harry looked at our intertwined hands, silently contemplating. Realising a bit too late that I was holding his hand I released it.  
  
I broke the silence softly. "Do you regret it? The sacrifices?"  
  
He sat back with a sigh, rubbing his creased forehead with his thumb. "I do and I don't. Without them I wouldn't have made it though the war- our side would have fallen a long time ago if I hadn't given things up. But I wish that it hadn't been like that. I regret it every second of every day but I wouldn't take it back - I couldn't. But I wish it didn't have to have been me. It's selfish, I know, but . . . " he trailed off, staring at the table.  
  
"It's not selfish." I said gently. "It wasn't fair to you - it wasn't fair to anybody."  
  
Harry smiled at me slightly, deflecting the attention from himself. "What about you? Any regrets?"  
  
I laughed shortly. "Apart from the obvious? Only that I went through all that and still never got what I wanted."  
  
"What was it like?" he asked softly.  
  
I considered it briefly. "Hard.cold.painful.lonely. It took your soul away from you. It wasn't worth the reasons I was doing it for - nothing could compensate for all the ways it fucked me up. Not even all the power in the world."  
  
"What kept you going?" Harry asked curiously. "Once you realised that it wasn't quite what you thought."  
  
"Being sure that what I was doing was right." I smiled sadly, bitterness tingeing my tone. "But that didn't last forever."  
  
He frowned. "No offence, but how could you ever have thought that what you were doing was even the slightest bit right?"  
  
"Not right for the world- not right for me."  
  
"And why wasn't it right for you?"  
  
I chewed my lip contemplatively. "I wanted to shine. I wanted to shine so bright that nobody would be able to ignore me and that nothing would ever stand in my way. I should have figured that joining the side of Dark wasn't the most effective way of shining. It's kind of an oxymoron."  
  
"You never thought about shining on our side?"  
  
I smiled sadly. "Once or twice, but who could outshine the Boy Who Lived?"  
  
"You could have."  
  
I shook my head slightly. "No. I couldn't."  
  
It wasn't a bitter recrimination, wasn't a plea for sympathy- it was just the simple truth. And for once, it didn't seem to hurt.  
  
***  
  
I yawned as I walked into the kitchen. "Is there any coffee?"  
  
"On the counter." Harry answered distractedly.  
  
I poured myself a cup, watching him as he read a letter.  
  
"What's that?" I took a sip of coffee and restrained a yelp as I burnt my mouth.  
  
"Dumbledore wants to see me." Harry frowned. "Today."  
  
"So what's the problem?"  
  
His eyes flickered to me and I sighed.  
  
"Harry- if I've said it once I've said it a thousand times - I am perfectly capable of spending a few hours without your company, no matter how thrilling you may be to have around."  
  
"I know it's just-"  
  
"You could make a day of it. You could so see the old fool and then go shopping and buy me something pretty." I smiled.  
  
Harry looked at me. "You are one strange guy, has anyone ever told you that?"  
  
"No one who valued their life." I replied.  
  
He rolled his eyes slightly. "I think I'll collect Rover on the way back."  
  
"Rover?" I looked at him blankly.  
  
"My dog."  
  
"You called your dog Rover? Do you have *any* imagination whatsoever?"  
  
"Yes." Harry said indignantly, "I just . . . didn't want a dog."  
  
"So why did you get one?"  
  
"Hermione made me. After the war started I sort of stopped spending time with people. Her and Ron were worried about me so they made me get one to keep me company."  
  
I looked at him with a slightly horrified expression. "That's terrible - you needed a *dog* to keep you company?"  
  
"Yeah." he didn't seem at all bothered by my criticism. "It wasn't like there were so many people offering to spend time with Voldemort's main target."  
  
"Most people are cowards." I stated with distaste. "I can't believe you had to get a dog."  
  
"I take it you're not a dog fan?" Harry said with a small smile.  
  
"Not generally . . . but I'm sure Rover will be . . . " I swallowed, "delightful."  
  
He snorted with laughter. "You're so full of shit."  
  
"Comes with being a Malfoy." I quipped. "My father had a particularly chronic case."  
  
I hadn't spoken so casually about my father since his death and the words took me by surprise.  
  
Harry was staring at me with a strange expression, a faint smile on his face.  
  
"What?" I asked, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable.  
  
"I'm just glad you're here." I felt a flutter of something in my stomach and I took a step forward, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to think of something to say. Harry coloured. "Well I better go- I don't want to be late."  
  
I never did figure out what I wanted to say.  
  
***  
  
A dog the size of a small elephant drooling on my foot announced Harry's arrival home.  
  
"Hello, Rover." I cooed, deigning to touch the slobbering mangy creature. It panted happily. "Who's a good dog? Who's a good dog?" Satisfied that I'd done my part I picked up a magazine. "Here you go- fetch!" I chucked it out of the room.  
  
Rover sped after it and with a smirk I closed the door behind it.  
  
Stupid mutt.  
  
Harry was standing by the fireplace, totally silent and his face devoid of any colour. "What's wrong?" Concern tinged my tone.  
  
His eyelashes fluttered and he swallowed deeply, trying to keep the pain out of his eyes.  
  
I stepped closer. "Harry, what is it?" My fingers reached out and brushed against his cheek- a ghost of a touch which I hadn't really thought about. His arms reached up and took hold of my hand, keeping it pressed against his cheek. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the touch that he felt so rarely. "Harry?" I asked in a whisper, confused beyond belief.  
  
"You can leave tomorrow." he said softly.  
  
Shock flooded me and temporarily I couldn't breathe. "I can leave?" I repeated.  
  
Harry nodded silently, his eyes fixed to the floor. I stepped back, pulling my hand away. "As in - I can actually leave the house- leave?" His nod became even more stiff and controlled. I was too shocked to know what to think.  
  
What am, an idiot? I can get out of here! Shouldn't I be happy?  
  
Only I wasn't.  
  
Confused, I met Harry's eyes and saw all his emotions swirling round.  
  
"Are you okay?" I asked quietly . . . awkwardly.  
  
"Fine." he answered shortly. He didn't look fine - in fact he looked the opposite.  
  
"Um . . . are you sure?" I asked tentatively.  
  
"I said I'm fine, all right? Leave it!" he stormed out the room and I heard a series of muffled thuds as he stamped up the stairs. The door slammed behind him as he entered his room and I winced as the sound echoed through the house.  
  
"Well, that went really well." I muttered sarcastically.  
  
For a second I thought about going after him, but then changed my mind. If he was going to be so childish then he could damn well stay up there. It wasn't my problem.  
  
He could at least be making the most of his last day with me.  
  
Then again, I supposed it was quite difficult for the poor idiot to get over the idea of me leaving . . . I mean, I was the most amazing wizard to ever walk the earth. Who wouldn't miss my cheery manner and my sympathetic listening skills?  
  
Er . . . maybe that was pushing it a little.  
  
I guess I could just blame it on that whole pesky love thing.  
  
***  
  
I shifted my weight for the thousandth time.  
  
Harry had appeared half an hour earlier, a sheepish expression on his face. After apologising profusely he'd settled with me at the kitchen table, a plate of brownies pushed towards me like a white flag . . . an edible white flag.  
  
And we'd sat there since in silence, treating each other like we were perfect strangers.  
  
I was sick of it, but I couldn't bring myself to break the uneasy silence, so instead I stuffed brownies in my mouth like they were going out of style.  
  
Our fingers met as we both reached for the last brownie.  
  
My eyes snapped upwards and met Harry's surprised ones.  
  
"You can have it." I said politely.  
  
"No honestly, it's all right!" he protested.  
  
"No, it's yours!" My mouth was watering at the smell of the chocolate icing.  
  
"I wasn't hungry anyway." Harry assured me.  
  
"You haven't eaten." I reminded him.  
  
"Neither have you." he countered.  
  
"You made it."  
  
"You need it more."  
  
I frowned. "I'm on a diet."  
  
A smile spread across his face. "You don't need to be."  
  
I opened my mouth.  
  
"I insist." he said.  
  
I shrugged. "Okay, then." I took the cake and took a large bite.  
  
His mouth dropped open in outrage.  
  
I smirked slightly- he hadn't been expecting that.  
  
"That wasn't fair." he protested.  
  
"I thought you 'insisted'."  
  
"Yeah but you could have given me a bit!"  
  
"Life's a bitch, isn't it?" I agreed.  
  
He shot me a look that didn't feel quite as angry as it looked.  
  
I munched the rest of the brownie happily.  
  
"You've got some on the corner of your mouth." his hand gestured to the area in question and I felt the ghost of a shiver run through me at his nearness.  
  
"Oh really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Okay then." I continued chewing, making sure I didn't have any chocolate in my teeth.  
  
"Aren't you going to do anything about it?" he asked finally.  
  
"I was waiting for you to." I said evenly, not letting my voice betray all the feelings that were whirling around inside of me.  
  
His eyes widened slightly as he realised what I was insinuating.  
  
Was I going mad? What was wrong with me? I had no romantic interest in Harry whatsoever and - why was he just staring at me with that shocked expression? Wasn't he going to do anything about it?  
  
I mean I didn't actually want him to or anything but-  
  
Halfway though my inner denial he began to move. Slowly he leaned forward and kissed the corner of my mouth, his tongue gently swirling the chocolate away.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
I nearly whimpered as heat spread through my body. Far too soon he pulled away and met my eyes.  
  
Well, I hadn't been expecting that - I was more thinking he'd wipe it off with his fingers not his tongue.  
  
But I certainly wasn't complaining.  
  
And as soon as I got my ability to speak back I'd tell him that.  
  
I swallowed, trying to get my brain to function, and in the silence panic flickered in his eyes.  
  
"Oh shit." he swore softly. "I'm so sorry I didn't mean to. I know that I-"  
  
"Harry." I interrupted him, my voice sounding strange even to myself.  
  
"What?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
Shock sparked in his eyes as I spoke.  
  
Driven by the need inside me that was as essential as breathing I grabbed him and slammed my mouth against his. It was desperate, breathless . . . an insatiable craving that couldn't be fulfilled.  
  
Our tongues danced a battle for dominance curving round each other in a way that was unquestionably erotic.  
  
I had to touch him, to feel his skin and kiss and lick every inch of it. His hands slid over me, feeling like they were everywhere at once, leaving me gasping.  
  
I tangled my fingers in his soft, inky black hair, trying to pull him as close as I possibly could.  
  
He tasted of chocolate - a taste that I needed more of. It was electrical, making the hairs rise on the back of my neck and causing me to shiver. His hips bucked against mine, leaving me lightheaded and gasping for breath. The delicious friction made stars erupt in my vision.  
  
I wanted him so much - wanted everything about him. I needed to have him now - before another second passed.  
  
No no no.  
  
This was too fast - too soon.  
  
It took every bit of my inner strength to pull away. The seconds our lips stopped touching the electrical currents in me faded to a warm tingling sensation.  
  
I looked at Harry, trying to work out what the hell he was thinking - trying to work out what the hell *I* was thinking.  
  
"Wow." he breathed, his eyes wide open in shock. "Wow."  
  
Well, that was the understatement of the century.  
  
I hadn't remembered our last kiss as being that intense. But maybe it had been. Maybe it was no wonder that it had left such an impression on Harry. Kisses like that are the ones that change lives.  
  
I tried to get my act together, unused to feeling such reckless abandon. I'd always been calm and level headed in any situation and I was finding it hard to understand why a simple kiss could make me lose my cool.  
  
What was I doing?  
  
I'd asked myself the same question five years ago and I was no nearer to knowing the answer. This was dangerous - this could destroy one or both of us. But I really didn't think that that was going to stop me . . . and I didn't know why.  
  
"Stop it." Harry whispered.  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
"Thinking." he brushed my hair out of my face tenderly. He ran his fingers over my shoulder blade and I nearly passed out as lust flooded my body.  
  
That was it.  
  
Screw going slow.  
  
I wanted him.  
  
No- I needed him.  
  
And this was a risk I was going to have to take.  
  
I needed to know what this was between us - needed to know why I felt this way about him. I stretched my hand out to him, an unspoken invitation that was eerily reminiscent of my outstretched hand eleven years earlier. His eyes staring into mine intently he took it, his palm gently caressing my own and sending shivers spiraling through me.  
  
My fate was sealed.  
  
{I Want to move in time with you I Want to breathe in rhyme with you I Want to feel the deepest kiss And I Want to know you feel like this}  
  
Clasping his hand I turned and led him up the stairs, the mere fact that I was touching him making my heart beating erratically. We reached the bedroom and uncharacteristically, nerves began to flutter in my stomach.  
  
I looked at him awkwardly, the desperate passion had been stalled and I didn't know what to do.  
  
Harry tipped his head to one side slightly and smiled affectionately. Slowly he stepped forward, our bodies so close that I could feel a constant crackle of electricity. Gently he lifted his hand and stroked my cheek. I shivered at the contact, feeling warmth pool in the pit of my stomach.  
  
"You're so beautiful." Harry whispered, leaning forward and capturing my lips in a warm kiss, different from anything I'd ever felt before. It was soft, sweet, almost heartbreaking in its tenderness. The love contained in it made me weak at the knees and I leaned forward onto him so that I didn't fall over.  
  
"Draco," he murmured, "I-"  
  
Quickly I put my finger over his lips, muffling the words I knew were at the tip of his tongue.  
  
"Shh." I could feel his warm breath tickling my fingers and it made the corners of my mouth turn up slightly. "It doesn't matter.  
  
{For this one time, one time Let my body do what it feels For this one time, one time Let this fantasy become real Cos I'm not afraid to let you see this side of me Oh I, no I }  
  
A mischievous look entered his eyes and before I had chance to wonder what it meant, my finger was in his mouth.  
  
I let out a startled exclamation that quickly turned into a desperate whimper as his teeth scraped my skin as he sucked lightly.  
  
"That's not playing fair." I said breathlessly.  
  
"Fair?" he smirked. "Who said anything about playing fair?"  
  
My eyes narrowed. Two could play that game.  
  
My hand gently caressed his cheek, slowly tracing a path over the contours of his jaw and feeling the silken skin on his neck. The palm of my hand moved down, gently sliding over the taught muscles of Harry's chest. My fingertips trailed behind my palm, my nails lightly scraping Harry's skin.  
  
His breath was shallow and he let out a small gasp as I took hold of his hips and pulled him towards me, grinding into him.  
  
"Shit." He swore softly.  
  
{I Want to feel your hand in mine I Want to feel that rush in my spine I Want to wear the scent of you And do All the things you want me to}  
  
"Do you want me, Harry?" The shadows danced on our bodies in the unlit room. "Do you want this?"  
  
His eyes fluttered, his mouth opening and closing as though he was trying to form words. I kissed his neck, sucking on his pulse point, softly at first and then harder, gently biting to mark him as mine.  
  
"Oh God," he moaned, ".Draco."  
  
The sound of his lust-filled throaty moan headed straight to my groin and if possible, I became even more hard.  
  
I took a step backwards, immediately missing the contact, but knowing that I would go mad if he remained fully clothed for another minute. In one smooth move I tugged the shirt over his head, as his fingers scrabbled to undo the buttons on my shirt.  
  
"What do you want Harry?" My voice was a low seductive purr. "What is it that you want?"  
  
He threw his head back, his nails digging into my shoulder. "You."  
  
I smiled.  
  
{So baby this one time, one time Let my body do what it feels For this one time one time Let this fantasy become real Cos I'm not afraid to let you see this side of me}  
  
I pushed him onto the bed, straddling his thighs, kissing a line along his smooth skin.  
  
Wanted him  
  
Needed him  
  
"Draco." He gasped as I shifted my weight and tugged his trousers off. Moving upwards I crushed my lips against his in a searing hot kiss, letting him roll me over so I was at the bottom.  
  
His fingers splayed out across my skin, sliding lower and lower, caressing my stomach and sliding underneath the elastic of my boxers. I inhaled sharply, my hands uselessly gripping the quilt as I held back a cry of pleasure.  
  
His tongue tangled with mine as he sucked gently upon it. My entire body was trembling; the power in his kisses was so intense. I couldn't take it any longer, hadn't ever felt anything like this desperate burning desire . . . this longing.  
  
With a growl I flipped him back over rubbing his obvious arousal with the heel of my palm.  
  
"Draco." he moaned.  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"I need you- inside me." He gasped breathily.  
  
I didn't question it- I knew he wanted this every bit as much as I did . . . maybe even more.  
  
Before the moment passed I reached towards the drawer.  
  
"No." he grabbed my arm. "Just do it now."  
  
"But-" I started.  
  
"Now." He gasped, his cheeks flushed and his lips swollen and red.  
  
"I don't want to hurt you." Concern filled my eyes.  
  
"You won't.' His voice was determined. Convinced that his mind was made up I parted his legs, scraping my fingernails lightly over the small of his back.  
  
{I feel the danger The separation I want to take your invitation The separation it's all around I need this side of me}  
  
I positioned myself , looking deeply into his eyes and knowing that this was beyond lust, beyond reality. And in one move I was inside him.  
  
He was so tight and a moan slipped from lips as I pushed slowly into him.  
  
"Oh God." I whispered.  
  
Our bodies melded together, moving as one.  
  
"Harry." The moan slipped from my lips easily.  
  
"Faster." he gasped, grabbing my hips and pushing me deeper inside him.  
  
{This side of me, side of me This side of me Ooh}  
  
Blood pounded through my head as I sped up, making the world pulse. I was suddenly a part of everything and everything was a part of me.  
  
Harry groaned and the sound of it drove me even closer to the edge. I bit down on my lip, wanting to both fight and embrace the feelings that seemed too intense for words.  
  
It was unbearable.  
  
I couldn't stop. I was forgetting myself in him, I couldn't remember why this was wrong, who I was, who I had been.  
  
{I Want to move in time with you I Want to breathe in rhyme with you I Want to stitch my clothes in sin And in the dark I want to find that door and go within}  
  
Needed-  
  
Wanted-  
  
Couldn't-  
  
"Harry." I whispered, losing hold of the world around me and of any coherent thought in my head.  
  
{For this one time, one time Let my body do what it feels For this one time, one time Let this fantasy become real Cos I'm not afraid to let you see this side of me No I'm not afraid to let you see this side of me}  
  
Need  
  
Want  
  
Can't  
  
"Oh God."  
  
Friction  
  
Heat  
  
Need  
  
Want  
  
So close  
  
Can't stop  
  
Have to  
  
Want  
  
Harry  
  
Harry  
  
Harry  
  
Oh God oh God oh God  
  
The world exploded in a fountain of light and my body shuddered as ecstasy like I'd never felt before coursed through my blood.  
  
I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't process what had just happened. I was lost in an expanse of pearly incandescent light, floating in paradise.  
  
Peace flooded through me as two arms wrapped me in a warm embrace. I was safe. Safe and loved.  
  
{Side of me Side of me This side of me Ooh oh}  
  
I felt him press a kiss to my forehead before I drifted off into sleep more easily than I ever had done before - secure in the knowledge that someone was watching over me.  
  
Secure in the knowledge that Harry was here.  
  
***  
  
I watched him sleep, his face for once smoothed of all the cares of the world.  
  
A smile curved his lips and I gently ran my finger over them.  
  
He was so beautiful - I'd never realised it before but he was.  
  
Too beautiful to deserve me.  
  
In the sunlight he looked like an angel, his skin glowing a pale gold. A part of me hoped that he would never wake up because I had never seen anything as incredible as his beauty - it moved me, awoke a part of me I hadn't known existed.  
  
There was a screech of an owl outside the window and in a second I was off the bed, not wanting Harry to be wakened.  
  
Torn between wanting to be quiet and wanting to make the bloody owl go away I fumbled with the window catch. The owl hovered outside, an envelope addressed to me in its claws.  
  
Hesitantly I reached out of the window, bracing myself for the collision with the force field that was bound to come.  
  
Instead, my fingers touched the smooth texture of the parchment.  
  
Startled, I snapped my hand back, accidentally hitting my knuckles on the window frame. I yelped and clutched my rapidly reddening hand.  
  
Well I hadn't been expecting that.  
  
The owl hooted again in impatient irritation and I shushed it, looking anxiously back at Harry. I reached through the window again, this time gripping the letter and taking it.  
  
The owl disappeared in a flurry of feathers and I was left standing in a silent room regarding the letter in my hand.  
  
I turned it upside down, emptying the contents onto the bed.  
  
Two items fell out - my wand being one of them  
  
I picked it up slowly, feeling the delicious shiver of magic at my fingertips.  
  
I'd missed this so much - I'm missed magic. It was in my blood and it called to me constantly- something that could no more be denied than you could not breathe.  
  
The sound of Harry turning over made my head snap round, watching as he screwed his nose up slightly in his sleep.  
  
A feeling of warmth spread over me and a fond smile spread over my face.  
  
He looked younger when he slept, his innocence and purity restored. When he slept you couldn't guess the horrors he had seen. My hand rustling the parchment snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned my attention to the piece of parchment.  
  
Mr. Malfoy - You are now free to leave Harry's house. Your name has been cleared of all charges and you should encounter no problems. Your wand is enclosed and your Manor has been readied for your arrival. I hope, for your sake, I never hear of you or see you again.  
Professor Dumbledore.  
  
Well that seemed a bit obvious- he wanted me out of Harry's house.  
  
And quite frankly after two months of being cooped up - I wanted out of Harry's house as well.  
  
Or did I?  
  
I gently touched Harry's hair, feeling ridiculously sentimental.  
  
Maybe I could stay.  
  
I jerked, both at my thoughts and the wistful feeling inside me.  
  
No.  
  
I didn't belong here.  
  
I looked at him again, at his peaceful expression. I'd wreck his life - I knew I would.  
  
I didn't belong with him.  
  
Swallowing hard I leaned over and gently brushed my lips against his forehead as he had done to me the night before.  
  
He murmured slightly and burrowed deeper into the quilt.  
  
"Goodbye Harry." I murmured.  
  
I turned and walked out of the room, feeling pain stab my heart.  
  
A heart I hadn't even known existed until today.  
  
Keeping my face stony and blank I opened the front door, barely hesitating before I stepped outside into freedom, leaving behind the only love and light there had ever been in my life. I was leaving behind the only person who cared about me - the only person I cared about.  
  
It felt as though I was being physically torn apart - torn apart from something or someone who had become a part of me.  
  
And though every nerve in my body screamed for me to . . . I didn't look back.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
So there we have it.  
  
Not the end yet though so don't hurt me quite yet.  
  
The song I used is "This Side of Me" by Savage Garden.  
  
Pleeeeeaaaaseee review - tell me what you think, I need to know.  
  
Thanks for reading!  
  
~C~ 


	12. Chapter 12

Hey everyone - sorry this took so long. I've been completely swamped and have only just finished this.  
  
So without further ado. . .  
  
Here it is  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~Harry~  
  
I woke up happy, a dreamy smile lighting my face before I even opened my eyes.  
  
Golden spirals whirled through my body, causing shivers to run tantalizingly up and down my spine.  
  
My arm stretched out searching for warmth, my fingertips feeling for a body I needed to be there.  
  
It met with emptiness.  
  
My eyes flew open and I sat up, my heart thudding painfully. My eyes searched the room frantically, a frown crossing my face.  
  
"Draco?" I stood up, wrapping the sheets around my waist and walked over to the bathroom. I mean, if he'd been in there, he should have heard me, but he really could get wrapped up in his reflection. No luck.  
  
It was empty.  
  
Swallowing the lump in my throat I walked out onto the corridor, searching.  
  
"Draco?" I shouted, panic building in me as there was no reply, "DRACO?"  
  
I ran my fingers through my hair, struggling to breathe.  
  
He wouldn't- he wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye.  
  
Unless of course last night had been his way of saying it.  
  
My breath caught in my throat and I felt a stab of pain.  
  
No.  
  
He had to be here.  
  
He couldn't be gone.  
  
He just couldn't be.  
  
"DRACO!" I called desperately, feeling hysteria bubble up inside my stomach. "DRACO, GODDAMNIT! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"  
  
My voice echoed through the house, fading away to silence along with my hope.  
  
My arms fell to my side limply.  
  
No. Shit no.  
  
He was gone.  
  
He was really gone.  
  
I sank to the floor numbly, sitting on the steps and leaning my head against the wall next to me.  
  
This couldn't be it.  
  
Seven years of waiting. Hoping. Dreaming. Yearning. Praying.  
  
Seven years of love made useless in one moment.  
  
Last night . . . last night I thought that maybe I'd been right. That it wasn't hopeless to have waited for him; that everybody else was wrong and he did love me too.  
  
Guess I was wrong.  
  
***  
  
I watched the sink fill with water, in a daze of pain that made me feel drugged. It was hard to do anything- breathing was an effort, and most of the time, moving was out of the question.  
  
I was just pushing down the pain- anesthetizing it the only way I knew how. Denial.  
  
Pretty damn poor anesthetic, but the only thing that took away the edge of the pain. Having him here had been such a bad idea, but one I knew that I could never have ignored. Whether I liked it or not, he'd become a part of me, and there was no way I could change that.  
  
Even with the pain, I wouldn't want to.  
  
An image flashed through my mind of Draco, his blonde hair falling in his eyes as he grinned at me warmly, body encased in a faded tracksuit and so close to me that I could feel the warmth from his body.  
  
A stab of loneliness and longing ripped through my heart.  
  
God, I missed him. He'd been gone just over a day, and I missed him like crazy already.  
  
"Shit!" I yelled as a wave of water crashed to my feet. Frantically I turned the tap, having been too absorbed in thoughts of Draco to notice the rapidly rising level.  
  
"Shit, shit, shit!" I kicked the cupboard with a sudden wave of anger, "Ow!"  
  
Okay, so abusing furniture was not helping, just destroying perfectly useful fixtures.  
  
I rubbed my forehead wearily, trying to wish away the banging headache that was as persistent as Crucio when he was hungry. Misery drained all the energy from my body, and I clambered up the stairs to bed, lying there for what seemed like an age.  
  
Until the light melted away and shadows consumed the room.  
  
I was cold, so very cold. Even under a mound of blankets I was shivering; not only from the cold, but also from my intense emotions.  
  
A broken sob erupted from my mouth as tears silently trickled down my face. I missed him so much. It was like someone had ripped my heart out, and I had to live without it- with just a throbbing absence that consumed my entire soul.  
  
I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling cold both on the inside and out. Images of Draco flickered through my mind, torturing me with his perfection.  
  
Untouchable in every way.  
  
Alone in the darkness with no-one to see my pain, I let myself cry. For the first time since the whole hero business started, I sobbed like a child.  
  
Like the child I'd never been allowed to be.  
  
***  
  
I moved the food around on my plate sulkily, uncomfortably aware that Sirius' and Remus' eyes were fixed on me.  
  
What should have been a joy-filled meal of celebration had actually become tense and awkward, as Sirius and Remus searched for words that would make me feel better.  
  
I watched them exchange a glance and a sudden rush of guilt overwhelmed me. I was such an idiot- obsessing about something as stupid as this after all they'd been through. I was a terrible godson.  
  
"So . . . " Sirius and Remus both jumped at the sound of my voice; this being the first time I'd spoken in twenty-five minutes. Not that I actually knew what to say.  
  
"So . . . " I started again. "You guys are shagging, huh?" They jumped again, but for an entirely different reason.  
  
"Um . . . " Remus eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "Yeah. No. Maybe." He looked over to Sirius desperately, questions evident in his eyes.  
  
"Yes," Sirius said firmly, leaning over and taking Remus' hand, "We are," he said, frowning suddenly,"Aren't we?" He looked to Remus for confirmation that he'd done the right thing in telling me.  
  
"I'm not a kid anymore. You don't have to lie to me." Not that they even needed to lie to me when I was a kid.  
  
"So you're all right with this?" Remus checked. "You don't mind?"  
  
"Why would I mind?' Would make me a bit hypocritical." Sadness washed over me as I thought of Draco. "You look good, I smiled, fighting back the tears, "This must be good for you."  
  
"It is," A smile lit Sirius's features causing him to glow, as he looked at Remus, "But Harry . . . "a sudden serious look crossed his face. "You look terrible!"  
  
"Thanks, Padfoot," I said, scowling. "That makes me feel so much better."  
  
"Sorry, but it had to be said."  
  
"No," Remus corrected him firmly, "it didn't. Harry doesn't need you being superficial right now. He needs your love and guidance."  
  
Sirius sighed. "Yeah, but he needs advice on his hair too. I mean- just look at it!"  
  
Sometimes Sirius reminded me too much of Draco for comfort.  
  
"Sirius," I snapped, "I have my hair the way I like it." Despite my words my hand snaked up self-consciously to pat my hair.  
  
Sirius's eyes softened, and he offered me a silent smile.  
  
"How are you, Harry?" Remus asked softly, deftly changing the subject.  
  
"I'm fine." I said tightly, forcing myself to paste a smile on my face.  
  
"Harry, you don't have to pretend-not around us." Sirius said, frowning slightly. "I know how it feels. I mean, when Remus dumped me, I was heartbroken."  
  
I looked at Remus quizzically. "You two have broken up before?" A sudden thought occurred to me. "And I was not dumped! I was just-" I searched for the words, "left without my prior consent."  
  
Sirius blinked. "Yeah . . . so you were dumped?'  
  
I sighed. What was the point of sugarcoating it? It wasn't going to make me feel any better- wasn't as though I had any pride left, anyway. "Yeah . . . so, Remus dumped you?"  
  
"Oh, multiple times," Sirius nodded emphatically, "it was always 'what would everyone say, Sirius? But I'm a werewolf you shouldn't be involved with me,' blah blah blah."  
  
"I think what Sirius is trying to say," Remus interrupted, "is that when some dump- uhh . . . leaves you without your prior consent, it sometimes works out for the best. It's not always the end-just some time for both parties to think about the relationship."  
  
"There wasn't a relationship," I swallowed, "it was just on my part."  
  
Sirius snorted derisively. "When did you get to be so thick, Harry? He was crazy about you-even I could tell that!"  
  
"In the very unlikely occasion that I trust your opinion on that, it doesn't matter. It's over. He's not coming back."  
  
"He told you that then?"  
  
"No," I said through gritted teeth. "I used some of that intelligence you insist I have."  
  
Sirius played with his napkin absentmindedly. "You just shouldn't give up hope, that's all. Maybe there was something he needed to do."  
  
"I've had enough of hoping. I'm bloody sick and tired of letting him walk all over me, and taking it. He left me without saying goodbye after we'd . . . "I trailed off, watching Sirius turn slightly green. There were some things he just didn't need to know. "And how come you're sticking up for him anyway? I thought you hated him. You should be happy about this."  
  
Sirius shrugged slightly. "He said some things that impressed me. Made me reconsider my opinion. Though, obviously, I was right to begin with. Anyone who would treat you this way just isn't worth it."  
  
But he was .  
  
That one thought lingered in my mind and I stared gloomily at the table. "God, I'll bet that you wish you hadn't rung me up to remind me to come here."  
  
"Well, it probably would have been more cheerful here without you- which is something from two people who have been in a Death Eater torture camp for a few years," Sirius smiled slightly, "But you're always welcome here, Harry - suicidal maniac or not. Our home is your home," he paused, looking thoughtful. "Would you like to stay for a while? I don't feel right sending you home by yourself."  
  
The offer was tempting, and I paused to think. "I'm okay. I don't want to impose on you any longer- I'll be fine." I stood. "I'd better be going. Thanks for dinner."  
  
"If you're sure. And it's not an imposition," Remus said firmly. I smiled sadly, giving them both a brief hug.  
  
"I'm glad you're back."  
  
"I'm glad we're back, too." Sirius murmured with a smirk. "See you around, Harry. I'll give you a call later this week."  
  
With one last smile I turned and walked from the apartment; feeling more alone than ever.  
  
***  
  
Tiredness made my eyes feel as though they were filled with lead, and it was hard even to blink.  
  
Why couldn't I sleep?  
  
Why didn't I even want to sleep? Only, that one was easy- if I slept, I dreamt, and if I dreamt, then it was about him.  
  
If sleeping wasn't going to last forever, then why bother? It would only make it worse when I woke up and he wasn't there . . . again.  
  
I threw the covers off of the bed with a growl of frustration and moved over to my desk, banging my head against it repeatedly, and only stopping when the dizziness was too much to bear.  
  
What was it I'd said about venting on furniture? Then again, I suppose this time I was venting on my head. Poor head. It's not like it'd done anything wrong.apart from not stopping me from falling for Draco, thus landing me in this entire mess to begin with.  
  
I hit it one more time for good measure.  
  
With a sigh I picked up my quill and began to twist it in my fingers.  
  
Emotions raced through me, and I tried to focus on them- trying to sort through them but unable to pick one from the swirling mass.  
  
I wracked my brain for a way to sort out the mess that my emotions were. Hermione had always said that writing helped her sort out her problems.  
  
I looked at the quill in my hand- worth a try.  
  
And I began to write. Not what I wished could be true but what I really felt and what I really meant. All the things I'd never say to anyone for fear of Draco laughing in my face.  
  
I wrote all the things in my soul.  
  
Draco- I know you had to leave. I know that you still think you have to prove yourself and show that you are somebody.  
  
But if you could see yourself the way that I see you then you'd know that it's all a load of crap.  
  
Because when you walk into a room you're the only thing I can see. You shine brighter than anybody I've ever met. In spite of everything you've done- everything you are and have been, you've always been the only thing I've been fighting for.  
  
You're not just "somebody" to me- you're everybody- the only person I need.  
  
If you were here you'd probably be laughing.  
  
You'd probably say "and I'm supposed to be the overly dramatic one", or I suppose you could always just tell me to get myself together, because it's obscenely pathetic for a so-called hero to be this bothered by his enemy leaving...  
  
But I can't help it.  
  
I can't help it, because you're the only thing that ever makes me feel this way.  
  
And I've been lying to you- and myself.  
  
The night that I came to your base, it was to find you. I came to try and save you. The entire ministry wanted you dead, but I didn't. I can't explain why, but I knew you weren't evil. Only Dumbledore knew that I was coming to the base. and he tried to stop me. I knew I could have died, but I couldn't leave you there. I wanted to give you a second chance- I wanted to save you from yourself.  
  
Because the truth is, I'm in love with you. I always have been.  
  
I know that you don't feel the same way, and I know that I'm stupid to keep hoping you will.  
  
But, God, if you could only feel a tenth of what I feel, then you'd understand why I'm telling you this.  
  
It's always been you-ever since you kissed me seven years ago, there's never been anyone else.  
  
I know who you are, and what you've done.  
  
I know I shouldn't want you.  
  
But I know I love you, and that's what I believe in.  
  
I don't care what happens to me in this life, but I will always love you.  
  
Always yours.  
  
Harry.  
  
I sealed the envelope, writing his name on the front in curvy writing. I stared at the name, tracing it gently with my thumb. Where are you ,Dray?  
  
My heart lurched as I thought about him, the apartment suddenly seeming colder . . . lonelier.  
  
And in a spur of the moment decision, I turned to my owl.  
  
"Hedwig, take this to Draco."  
  
She hooted softly and spread her wings, gently brushing my cheeks with the tips of her feathers. I sighed, watching her leave and feeling a mixture of hope and dread. At least if he laughed in my face, I'd get to see him one last time. If that was his reaction, he'd come and do it in person- he was just that sort of sadistic person.  
  
Now all there was to do was wait.  
  
***  
  
"You wanted to see me, sir?" I asked politely, standing in front of Dumbledore's desk, feeling like I was back at school again.  
  
"Ah, yes, Harry- please have a seat."  
  
I perched on one of the overstuffed leather seats, feeling uneasy in Dumbledore's office for the first time.  
  
"How are you, Harry?"  
  
I bit my lip. "With all due respect sir, I don't think the state of my well being is what you asked me here to talk about, is it?"  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "No, it's not.we've had reports that Mr. Malfoy is attempting to rebuild Voldemort's forces, with himself at the head." For the first time in the twelve years that I'd known him, Dumbledore looked greatly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Harry."  
  
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold back the sorrow.  
  
"I truly am sorry," Dumbledore repeated.  
  
"Why? He got what he wanted." I took a shaky breath inwards, "he's got his chance to shine."  
  
Dumbledore nodded slowly.  
  
"If that is all . . . " I said brusquely, standing and walking towards the door.  
  
As my face drew level with the doorframe, I stopped.  
  
"If anybody tries to stop him, then they'll have me to deal with." my voice was low but so venomous that it filled the whole room.  
  
"Harry . . . "  
  
I turned around, meeting Dumbledore's eyes steadily. "I mean it."  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore's voice, although calm, betrayed his urgency. "I don't think you understand-"  
  
"I don't understand?" A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "I think I do. I never had any parents. They were taken away from me before I even knew them. I didn't have a childhood- my so called family treated me like shit. And then I came here, and I thought everything was going to be fine. But no- I had to grow up more quickly than anyone else here. I had to watch my back every second of every day, because someone was always out to get me. Do you know what that's like? I gave up my dreams, my friends- the only family I felt I had, to save the world. I've never got close enough to anyone for them to love me," I broke off, unable to express the injustice.  
  
Dumbledore looked at the floor. "I know what we asked you to do was unforgivable. It was unfair to expect that of a child."  
  
"Well, I did it. I did it with no complaints." I sighed, my tone becoming gentler, "I've never asked you for anything. Except this."  
  
"Harry, I was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, for your sake, but I think that he's proven his true colours."  
  
"You're wrong," I told him, my voice shaking with anger. "You don't know him. None of you know him- you don't have the right to judge him."  
  
"And do you? What makes you so sure that you know him? You've lived in the same house as him for two months- that doesn't make you an expert on his thoughts and wishes. You don't know him Harry- you wouldn't want to."  
  
"With all respect sir," I said, my voice stressed the last word mockingly, "you're wrong."  
  
"I'm afraid that that's a matter of opinion."  
  
"Maybe. But I know I'm right."  
  
"Harry-"  
  
"He's the only thing I've got." My eyes hardened. "And I'm not going to let you take him away from me."  
  
Dumbledore was silent, and I took that as my cue to leave, slamming the door behind me.  
  
What was worrying wasn't that I'd shouted at Dumbledore- I'd done that many times before- but that I meant it.  
  
I knew Draco was a selfish git who had used me, but I still loved him.  
  
If anyone hurt him in any way, they would regret it, if they even lived to do so.  
  
I'm not into murder, I'm really not, but the war taught me that sometimes you have to kill to protect the people and things you care about.  
  
So if it was going to protect Draco, I'd take on the entire bloody world.  
  
I'd wanted to save him from himself-to bring him to the light and to kiss away every one of his wounds and fears.  
  
I'd taken the risk.  
  
And I'd lost.  
  
When I'd walked into the Death Eater base that night I'd been prepared to die.  
  
I'd been prepared to die to find out-to find out what could have been.  
  
I knew he was evil, I did. My brain told me that I was an idiot to be doing this. An idiot to be so acceptant of the possible consequences of my actions.  
  
But every other fibre of my body, my heart, my very soul itself screamed that I was doing the right thing.  
  
I had to know- one way or another I had to know how he felt.  
  
I realised that it was just one stupid night that he probably never gave a second thought but something had changed about my entire being that night.  
  
I'd fallen for him. And no matter how much I tried I couldn't change how I felt. I didn't even think I wanted to.  
  
I'd driven myself mad for five years thinking about him, about the blinding heat that surged through my body everytime he touched me, about the way he could make me feel more alive than anything or anybody else could, just by looking at me. About the feel of his lips on mine-the indescribable ecstasy that his kiss roused in me. I thought about his liquid silver eyes that I could willingly drown in- that took my breath away, because in them I found myself. Time and time again, I replayed the kiss, each time finding something new to obsess about- maybe the silky feel of his moonlight hair or the velvet touch of his milky skin.  
  
And then, finally, I had come to decision that was to change my life.  
  
I had to see him.  
  
My life was his already- even though he didn't know it.  
  
I was putting my life in his hands-and it was up to him to decide if I lived or died.  
  
But a part of me had always believed that no matter what, he wouldn't kill me. That everything would be okay because I loved him. And how could he not feel this?  
  
And when he hadn't let me die-I'd seen the spark of something in his eyes that had convinced me I was right.  
  
In some ways, I was right-he wasn't evil- he didn't kill me.  
  
But he didn't love me.  
  
Because of course he'd wanted me dead.  
  
And he'd succeeded.  
  
He'd killed me. But it wasn't by a spell, or in a fight or even by assassination.  
  
He'd killed me by leaving.  
  
***  
  
"Crucio!" I called. "Where are you, you damned cat?"  
  
A can of Whiskers in hand, I stormed through the house. Seems that the bloody cat's food radar had disappeared the only time I wanted to feed him.  
  
I skidded to a halt in the living room, spotting my prey.  
  
Crucio and Rover were asleep, lying next to each other.  
  
Since Draco had left they seemed to have decided to become best friends, leaving me completely alone.  
  
Ironic that they were so close when me and Draco were so very far apart.  
  
Well, at least someone had a bit of company.  
  
I sank to the sofa with a sigh, feeling a pang of loneliness. Trying to block the thoughts of Draco from my head, I tapped the can against the table in an erratic rhythm.  
  
Nowhere to go, nothing to see, nobody to talk to.  
  
And it was all my fault.  
  
I'd pushed away everybody and now I was alone.  
  
It wasn't the first time that this had occurred, but it struck me now more than ever. With Draco gone, there was a huge hole inside my heart and there was no one to even attempt to fill it.  
  
I'd left all my friends for fear that I'd lose them, and ended up losing them more than I could have imagined.  
  
What a stupid idea that had been. It hadn't protected me from pain, just caused more of it.  
  
But Draco had been right; the war was over. and maybe it was time to face my past.  
  
***  
  
I swallowed, checking the number by the door one last time, hoping that my memories had led me to the right apartment.  
  
Finally gathering the courage to, I knocked gently on the door.  
  
"Coming!" Hermione's voice called,"just give me a second."  
  
The door flung open and Hermione's smiling face appeared, slowly freezing in shock as she saw me standing in the doorway.  
  
"Harry," she said faintly.  
  
"Hi," I said nervously. "Can I come in?"  
  
"Of course," she said finally, shaking herself out of her shock, and holding the door open for me.  
  
I stepped inside cautiously, looking around an apartment which had totally changed since the last time I'd set foot in it.  
  
I shifted my weight awkwardly. "I . . . uh . . . didn't want to use the Floo network, because I wanted to give you the choice of whether to let me in or not."  
  
"I wouldn't have shut you out, Harry," she said seriously. "I never would have."  
  
Well, that certainly made me feel guilty. I looked at my feet, chewing my lip nervously.  
  
"So, how's," Hermione swallowed, "Draco?"  
  
A stab of pain.  
  
"Oh he . . . uh . . . he-he left." I shrugged slightly, trying my hardest to seem nonchalant; like my heart wasn't being torn out of my chest.  
  
"Left?" Surprise crossed her face.  
  
"Yeah." I couldn't say any more than that, for fear that I'd cry.  
  
"Would you like a cup of tea?" she asked, leading the way to the kitchen.  
  
"Oh . . . sure." I followed her, glancing round the apartment.  
  
"So what can I do for you, Harry?" She handed me a cup of freshly brewed tea and sat down at the table.  
  
I took a deep breath and began. "I just wanted to . . . apologise. For the way I treated you and Ron after school. It was stupid of me, and the worst thing that I could have done to you. You didn't deserve that-neither of you did. You'd never been anything but supportive of me, and I threw that back into your face. And I don't know if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, but I really hope you can, because I miss you and Ron so badly." I looked at Hermione hopefully, desperation rising in me.  
  
"Okay," she said simply.  
  
"Okay?"  
  
"You're forgiven."  
  
"What?" Confusion entered my tone. It couldn't be that simple.  
  
"Harry, I've had a lot of time to think-about you, about me, about Ron. I was angry for a really long time, but I'm past that now. Ron misses you- miss you-but Ron especially, and I always swore to myself that if you gave us a chance t,o I'd forgive you in a heartbeat. I know why you did it-and, yeah, it was stupid and misguided-but that's you."  
  
I picked up on the thinly veiled insult, but decided to ignore it.  
  
"So we're okay?" The disbelief in my voice was evident.  
  
"Well . . . not completely. But yeah. We are."  
  
A smile split my face, the relief so strong that it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  
  
"Why do I feel that Draco had something to do with this?"  
  
"He wanted me to come and see you. He said that I was being a stupid stubborn arsehole," I admitted.  
  
"I never thought I'd actually agree with anything he said." Hermione said, with a bit more venom than I was hoping for.  
  
"He says a lot that makes sense-reminds me of you a bit, actually."  
  
Hermione frowned. "Hey, I just forgave you-don't start insulting me." Her tone was only partially teasing.  
  
"It wasn't an insult," I said shortly.  
  
"He's a murderer."  
  
I shrugged slightly. "And Ron snores. Who's perfect?"  
  
"That's hardly the same-"  
  
"For fuck's sake, Hermione!" I exclaimed. "Like you've never killed anyone before! It was a war-a fucking war. You kill the people on the other side- that's how it works. You don't sit there and think about the fact that these people have families, that you used to go to school with them-that you used to be friends with them," I broke off, looking down helplessly, "We'd all have gone mad a long time ago if we had."  
  
She stared into her cup of tea silently, contemplating my words.  
  
"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. I've killed a lot of people- and fine, they were evil, but they're still dead. Light or dark, they're still people. If you're going to judge him, then judge me as well, judge yourself . . . judge Ron. Judge every fucking person you've ever fucking met."  
  
I snapped my mouth shut, trying to calm down my heavy breathing. Hermione was watching me with a frown. "I never knew," she said finally.  
  
My eyes flickered to her questioningly. "I never knew you were in love with him," she finished.  
  
I laughed softly, derisively. "Is it that obvious?" I was tired of the whole thing.  
  
"It is, now that I think about it." She chewed her lip slightly. "I always just thought that it was a silly infatuation that would go away."  
  
"Maybe it started out that way," I admitted, "but it hasn't been like that for a long time. Every moment of every day he's been all I can see in my mind-all I can think about. I dream about him, you know . . . he's the only thing I want. He's the only thing I ever wanted. Everything I am and everything I've done has been because of him and the way I feel about him. I can't breathe, 'mione. It hurts so much without him. Everything's so . . . so hard without him." I drew in a shaky breath  
  
Hermione looked at me thoughtfully. "Then maybe it's best that he left."  
  
I blinked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Harry, I mean this in the nicest way, but this is just so wrong. You shouldn't feel like you can't survive without him."  
  
"That's love!" I exclaimed.  
  
"No. No it's not. Love doesn't tear you apart like this. Love doesn't make you feel like you can't live. It's what makes life worth living."  
  
"I love him, 'mione. No matter how you try and paint this, it won't change the truth."  
  
"I know. I know you love him, but it shouldn't be like this. There should be more to your life than him. And until you realise that, you'll never be okay."  
  
My face scrunched into a frown.  
  
"I love Ron; I love him more than anything. But he's not the only thing in my life. If he was, I think we'd both go mad. You can't just invest everything in one person-your world has to revolve around something other than the person you love."  
  
"I don't know how to do that," I whispered.  
  
"Yes you do." Hermione said matter-of factly. "You're doing it right now. Just by being here."  
  
I looked at the table silently, taking in her words.  
  
"Thanks, 'mione," I said finally, smiling at her warmly. I wasn't sure I agreed with her opinion, but I was glad to hear it, nonetheless, "I'd better be off."  
  
"Ron should be back soon. Do you want to wait for him?"  
  
I hesitated, uncertain. "Can you just tell him I dropped by? I don't think I can-" I stopped, unable to put into words how I felt. How afraid I was of seeing my best friend again. Afraid of him rejecting me. Afraid of the guilt I'd feel about abandoning him. Afraid of his forgiveness.  
  
Hermione smiled. "It's all right. I'll tell him."  
  
"Thanks, 'mione," I smiled hesitantly.  
  
"Hey," she reached over and hugged me briefly, "we really are okay now. You know that, right?"  
  
"Yeah," I said, fighting the lump in my throat, "Yeah. I do."  
  
***  
  
I stared at the ceiling silently. The light of the TV flickered continuously as whatever programme was playing blared. There was no point in watching it-it wasn't real. It wasn't going to take away the pain-hell, it probably wasn't even going to distract me from it. Couldn't really work out why Draco was so addicted to it, actually.  
  
With a loud hoot that made me jump, Hedwig fluttered into the room, clutching a letter in her beak, which she dropped at my feet.  
  
My heart stopped.  
  
Please.  
  
Please let it be from him.  
  
I fumbled with the letter, my heart racing and nausea rising in my throat.  
  
Turning it over to the front in what seemed like slow motion, I focused on the writing.  
  
It was my own.  
  
The pain struck me, so severe that I could almost hear my own heart breaking.  
  
He hadn't got it.  
  
Or at least, if he had, then he hadn't even bothered to open it.  
  
I didn't know which was worst; that he had disappeared off the face of the planet, or that he didn't give enough of a shit about me to open one lousy letter.  
  
One letter in which I'd poured out my heart and soul.  
  
Somehow I'd rather he laughed in my face. This was the ultimate rejection.  
  
I closed my eyes, digging my nails into my palm. I didn't know it was possible to hurt this much. Everything I'd felt so far was nothing compared to this; it was searing and freezing at the same time. All-consuming, devouring my heart and soul and branding them with his name over and over again.  
  
The hair rose on the back of my neck as I felt eyes watching me, and I opened an eye to see Crucio sitting at my feet.  
  
I sighed; the last thing I needed was some cocky, violent cat winding me up at the moment.  
  
Although he hadn't been very violent recently- he just wandered around, looking as lost as I felt.  
  
Crucio looked at me, confusion evident in his eyes. He peered into the kitchen, turning again to me to meow, questioningly. He'd been like this since Draco left-constantly searching for him.  
  
"He's gone," I told him. He meowed, his head turning again to look around the room.  
  
"For God's sake!" I hit the door, pain resonating through my arm.  
  
"He's gone, and he's not coming back, all right?" A glass fell off of the table as I banged into it, and I heard it shatter on the floor. Shatter into a thousand pieces beyond repair.  
  
That seemed familiar.  
  
"He's not bloody coming back. Will you just understand that, you stupid cat?" Crucio watched me, unmoved by my display.  
  
"He's gone."  
  
The pain hit me. Really hit me. So hard I couldn't breathe.  
  
The anger flooded out of me and I became limp, dropping to the floor.  
  
"He's gone," I choked. A tear dripped silently to the floor.  
  
I felt something soft touch my hand and jerked my head upwards, meeting Crucio's orange eyes. They were full of sympathy, and I wondered once again just how much this cat actually understood. It was certainly the only time he'd ever been nice to me.  
  
"I don't know what to do," I whispered, curling my knees up towards me. Crucio meowed again, but this time it was softer . . . even kind. He rubbed his head against my arm and of its own volition, my hand began to scratch behind his ears.  
  
Why couldn't life just be easy? I was sure that no-one else's life was this difficult-it shouldn't be. My life was just one shitty situation after another. Even fighting Voldemort was easier than this. Maybe I should resurrect him-that would probably distract me from the pain more than the TV.  
  
Crucio cocked his head to one side as if listening, and then ran out of the room, flicking his tail at my face.  
  
Great, I wasn't even interesting enough to keep a cat with me.  
  
The doorbell rang, cutting through the silence with a sharpness that made me jump.  
  
I wiped my tears away hastily. "Go away," I shouted hoarsely.  
  
It rang again and I sighed, irritated that this person wouldn't take the very blatant statement literally.  
  
"Look, whoever you are, I don't want to talk to you, so just bugger off!"  
  
Undeterred, the doorbell rang again.  
  
Gritting my teeth, I leapt up, storming through the corridor.  
  
'What the hell do you want?" I snapped, flinging the door open, "Can't you just-'  
  
My voice died in my throat as I met the silvery eyes of Draco Malfoy.  
  
~Draco~  
  
His mouth was open slightly, a thousand emotions racing through his eyes. I watched him silently, betraying none of my own feelings. He looked terrible- a comment that barely escaped leaving my mouth.  
  
I breathed deeply through my nose, tilting my head to the side so that my hair fell messily in front of my eyes in a way I knew looked irresistible and charming.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he whispered.  
  
I shrugged slightly. "I missed the cat." My tone was diffident and cool.  
  
He was looking at me in stunned amazement, unable to speak. "Can I come in?" I asked quietly, taking pity on the look in his eyes, and deciding not to torment him any longer.  
  
He held the door open wordlessly, closing it silently as I moved past him. Confusion played on his face. "You said-"  
  
"I lied."  
  
"They told me-"  
  
"I know."  
  
"I thought you were-"  
  
"I was," I said simply.  
  
He shook his head slightly, pain evident in his eyes. "I don't understand."  
  
I fought to keep my nerve- courage had never been one of my strong points.  
  
"Then let me explain it to you."  
  
Before he could reply, I stepped forward and slowly kissed him. Time stopped around us, and the rest of the world ceased to matter. There was nothing except his lips on mine and the torturous ecstasy that raced through my body.  
  
I pulled away, breathing raggedly, "Do you understand now?"  
  
Harry's mouth was opening and closing at a rate of about seven times a second. "I-I-"  
  
I nodded in satisfaction and pulled away. "I think you do."  
  
"No!" Harry exclaimed, anger flickering in his eyes. "I don't!"  
  
Ah. Here it came.  
  
"You just bloody left me! You never even said goodbye! You knew how I felt- and you just took advantage of that. Do you know what I've been through because of you? Jesus, Draco! You really are the most evil bastard I've ever met. All my life I've been thinking about you, and you know what? I don't know if it was worth it. Can you really expect that one night to make up for all the shit that loving you brought? Can you? Because somehow I-" I leant forward and silenced him with a kiss, tangling my fingers in his hair, so he couldn't pull away. I kissed him until all the tension and anger drained out of his body. I kissed him until my heart pounded, and there was nothing left to say.  
  
Harry took a shaky breath in, closing his eyes and sighing. "You can't just- "  
  
"I know."  
  
"Will you stop doing that!" he shouted. "Will you just let me finish a sentence?"  
  
"Sorry," my voice was level and serious.  
  
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Where have you been?" he exclaimed.  
  
"Gathering the Death Eater forces to attack every muggle-born in the world, and wipe them off of the face of the planet," I replied calmly.  
  
His face fell- that had not been what he'd wanted me to say. "Why?"  
  
"Well, I don't really have any skills other than being a Dark Lord in training." I forced a smile, ignoring the throbbing in my heart.  
  
"No- not why did you do it- why are you back?" His voice cracked softly, and for the first time I fully noticed the bags under his eyes, the pallor of his skin, and the pain in his eyes. Not in a purely aesthetic way to determine how he looked, but really seeing the pain that I'd caused him.  
  
I took a step closer, feeling warmth flood through me. "It wasn't the same. It all just seemed so pointless and monotonous. I was just standing there thinking, 'what the hell am I doing?' - I didn't want to be there- I wanted to be here...with you. And when I realised that, I just gave up. Because you can't live without your heart - and you have mine."  
  
His face blank, he stared at me silently. His eyes; usually so vibrant and easy to read were defensive, secretive . . . giving me no hint as to how he was feeling.  
  
Although I think it's pretty safe to say that I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.  
  
"Say something," I urged nervously, beginning to feel very sick. I'd just poured out all of my bloody heart to him, and all he was doing was looking at me in a blank way that didn't give me any clues as to what he was thinking.  
  
"You're the only person I know who could work the word monotonous into an emotional reunion," he said tearfully, a wobbly smile spreading across his face. Relief spread through my body.  
  
"Shit," I whispered, collapsing against the table, "don't do things like that."  
  
"Sorry," he stepped towards me and gently ran his fingertips down my cheek. "I missed you."  
  
I swallowed hard, trying to keep tears from spilling from my eyes. "I missed you, too."  
  
He grinned, interlacing our fingers, and pulling me closer. "Good."  
  
My pessimism and stubbornness reared within me, and I pulled away slightly, frowning.  
  
"I won't change. I'm not just going to become a good guy," I said stubbornly. "Not for you, not for anybody."  
  
"You don't have to," he promised, "You're perfect the way you are."  
  
I laughed through the tears streaming down my face. "Weasley is going to kill you."  
  
"It's worth the risk," he grinned.  
  
I closed my eyes, soaking in the warmth and love that I could feel radiating off of him.  
  
"Harry," I murmured.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
I wanted to tell him how I felt- to somehow explain that what I felt for him was a salvation to my cold heart. I wanted to tell him that I trusted him more than anything and anybody, and that he'd saved me from myself. That he'd brought me back to life from a world of darkness and despair.  
  
"I love you."  
  
And I'd spoken the three words that I'd never even imagined uttering before.  
  
"Really?" he whispered.  
  
Although a thousand cutting replies hovered in my head, a slow smile spread across my face.  
  
"Really. You're what makes me shine."  
  
Joy bubbled up inside me, and happiness shone from his face. Slowly, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.  
  
I sighed happily- contentedly- and wrapped my arms around his neck loosely, leaning against his chest. And I knew that somehow everything would work out okay. And though it may be traditional to say "the end", I've never been one for tradition.  
  
Because that wasn't the end . . . that was the beginning.  
  
  
  
  
  
So there we have it  
  
Hope everyone liked it - feel free to review whether you did or didn't.  
  
Anyone who's reading In The End - I am working on it . . . just very slowly.  
  
For now - bye-bye!! 


End file.
